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The Substance of 


Summarized by 



Copyright, 1930, by 


First July 1930 



AMONG all American writers there can be no doubt 
that Lester F. Ward has produced the most impressive 
and comprehensive system of sociology. Mr, Ward was 
also the earliest important American sociologist. His 
Dynamic Sociology, which many critics consider his 
magnum opus, appeared in 1883, about midway between 
the publication of the first and last volumes of Spencer's 
Principles of Sociology. In addition to many articles 
in periodicals, Ward's sociological system was embodied 
in six considerable volumes. Whatever may be the esti- 
mate of the future regarding the place of Ward in the 
history of sociology, it is certain that no other writer 
has approached the subject with a body of scientific 
knowledge which at all approximated that possessed by 
Ward. Herbert Spencer's Synthetic Philosophy un- 
doubtedly displays more profound reasoning powers and 
a greater talent for the logical marshalling of evidence, 
but his scientific knowledge was not at all comparable 
to that possessed by Ward. Ward's formal scientific 
career was passed as a government expert in paleobotany, 
to which he made contributions only second in impor- 
tance to his work in sociology. 1 Ward's predilection for 
introducing his botanical terminology into his sociology 
often gives the latter as strange and technical a tone 
as is to be found in the writings of the extreme "Organ- 

1 His academic career was limited to lectures at several university sum- 
mer school sessions and six years (1906-1913) as processor of sociology at 
Brown University. 


icists." Some of his scientific terms, however, such as 
"sympodial development/' "synergy/" "creative syn- 
thesis/ 5 "gynaecocracy," and "social telesis," are rather 
felicitous and have been quite generally absorbed into 
conventional sociological thought and expression. 

An extended or comprehensive exposition of Ward's 
sociological system within, the scope of the present 
introduction is manifestly impossible. Attention will 
be confined to a few of his cardinal contributions. 

As to the subject-matter of sociology, Ward says: "My 
thesis is that the subject-matter of sociology is human 
achievement. It is not what men are but what they do. 
It is not the structure but the function." l As nearly 
all of the earlier sociologists had been concerned almost 
wholly with an analysis of social structure, Ward's point 
of approach was novel and epoch-making in its sig- 
nificance. The divisions of sociology are two pure and 
applied. Pure sociology is theoretical and seeks to estab- 
lish the principles of the science. Applied sociology is 
practical and points out the applications of the science. 
Specifically, it "deals with the artificial means of accel- 
erating the spontaneous process of nature." 2 

In his exposition of the principle of social purpose, 
Ward lays down the fundamental proposition that 
energy must be controlled if evolution is to result. There 
are two possible methods of control: the unconscious 
control of nature manifested in growth, and the con- 
scious direction by mind, involved in purpose. The 
conscious method of control by mind is manifestly 
superior to the unconscious control of nature. Nature 
is wasteful in providing an immense mass of raw 
material and leaving it to be improved very slowly 

1 Pure Sociology, p. IS. 

* Pure Sociology, pp. 3, 431. 


through natural selection. The tendency of mind is 
to economize through foresight and the adjustment of 
means to ends. This control of the dynamic forces of 
nature and society through the adjustment of means 
to ends is what Ward designates as "telesis." In this 
process of conscious or purposeful control of the social 
forces, the development of jtjie state was the most im- 
portant step ever taken by man or society. Nevertheless, 
though the state is the chief agent through which the 
conscious direction of the social process is and will be 
carried on, society cannot perfect this conscious control 
through any organ until there is developed an adequate 
and sufficiently diffused knowledge of the nature and 
manner of the operation of the social forces. Therefore, 
an adequate development of a system of education in 
the social sciences, which will make possible the univer- 
sal diffusion of this essential knowledge, is the indispen- 
sable prerequisite to the proper development of collective 

In conclusion, one may safely say that Ward's out- 
standing contributions to sociology were his grasp of 
the relation between cosmic and social evolution, and his 
doctrine of the superiority of the conscious over the 
unconscious control of the social process. In neither of 
these respects has he been approached by any other 
sociologist. Of these two cardinal contributions the 
latter is by far the more important, for the obvious 
reason that the former is at the best but picturesque 
and eloquent guesswork, and must always be so until 
the range of human knowledge is greatly extended. The 
latter, however, is perhaps the most important single 
contribution of sociology to human thought, and Ward's 
significance must rest chiefly upon the fact that his 
presentation of this conception has been the most power- 


f ul statement that sociology has yet produced. Professor 
Giddings has summed up this aspect of Ward's system 
with characteristic clarity: 

"Throughout all Ward's work there runs one dominating 
and organizing thought. Human society, as we who live now 
know it, is not the passive product of unconscious forces. It 
lies within the domain of cosmic law, but so does the mind 
of man: and this mind of man has knowingly, artfully, adapted 
and readapted its social environment, and with reflective in- 
telligence has begun to shape it into an instrument wherewith 
to fulfil man's will. With forecasting wisdom man will perfect 
it, until it shall be at once adequate and adaptable to all its 
uses. This he will do not by creative impulse evolving in a 
void, but by constructive intelligence shaping the substantial 
stuff of verified scientific knowledge. Wherefore, scientific 
knowledge must be made the possession of mankind. Edu- 
cation must not merely train the mind. It must also equip and 
store, with knowledge. 

"This great thought Dr. Ward apprehended, expressed, ex- 
plained, illuminated, drove home to the mind of all who read 
his pages, as no other writer, ancient or modern, has ever done. 
It is his enduring and cogent contribution to sociology." 













NESS 39 



EDGE 53 






















LESTER F. WARD was a thinker of the first rank, to be 
classed with Marx, Freud, and Einstein. He stands 
beside these men because, like them, during a lifetime 
of vigorous intellectual work, he achieved one tremen- 
dous and comparatively unanswerable generalization 
which has permanently enriched man's thought there- 
after. Marx analyzed capitalist economic society, 
showed the unbridgeable chasm between labor and 
capital, and indicated the inevitable end of that society 
in the abolition of the exploiting class. Freud rcdescribed 
the nominal captain of man's activities the intellect as 
the automaton slave of an invisible tyrant the emotions 
dwelling in the unconscious of man's nature. Einstein 
showed that neither space nor time were real, and that 
the only reality was a relationship between these two, 
with time redescribed as a dimension, which to all intents 
and purposes, was spatial. And Lester Ward, for the 
first time, solved the problem of the origin and develop- 
ment of the sexes. It is for this that the future will 
remember him, rather than for his tremendous structure 
of sociological thinking, or his brilliant judgment upon 
a thousand minor aspects of social relationships. 

Ward was born on June 18, 1841, at Joliet, Illinois. 
His early education in the schools of Joliet and Iowa, 
and in the Academy of Towanda, Pennsylvania, was 
interrupted by the Civil War, in which he served in 
the Union army. During the seven years commencing 



with 1865 he was employed in the United States Treas- 
ury Department. He drove ahead with his education 
during these years, and received from Columbia Uni- 
versity, of Washington, D. C., the degrees of A.B. in 
1869, LL.B. in 1871, and A.M. in 1873. For the next 
fourteen years he continued to be the assiduous student, 
specializing in botany. In 1881, he became assistant 
geologist of the United States Geological Survey, and, 
two years later, was given the rank of geologist. During 
1884, 1885 and 1886 he was professor of botany at his 
Alma Mater, which later altered its name to George 
Washington University. In 1892, he was named pale- 
ontologist for the Geological Survey, a position which 
he held until 1906, when he resigned to join the faculty 
of Brown University, where he remained until his death, 
April 18, 1913. 

His best known biological publications are A Sketch 
of Paleobotany (1885), The Geographical Distribution 
of Fossil Plants (1888) , and The Status of the Mesozoic 
Floras of the United States (1905). His sociological 
publications include Dynamic Sociology (1883; 2nd ed. 
1897), Psychic Factors of Civilization (1893), Outlines 
of Sociology (1898), Sociology and Economics (1899), 
Pure Sociology (1903), Applied Sociology (1906), and 
Glimpses of the Cosmos, a collection of his minor publi- 
cations in six volumes, five of them posthumous, which 
appeared between 1913 and 1918. All of these exhibit 
brilliant analysis and more amazing synthesis; but his 
sociological thinking can be best studied from the first 
two titles in the above list of his sociological works, and 
the two volumes appearing in 1903 and 1906, and it is 
to them that this summarization is chiefly restricted. 
These four volumes total nearly three thousand pages; 
and modern man has neither the time nor inclination to 


read such a mass of material. This book is a condensation 
of Ward's work. Nothing of importance is omitted; the 
pivotal conclusions are all given in the author's original 
words; the facts to support these conclusions are in a 
conveniently condensed form. 

Ward received some contemporary appreciation. He 
was a friend and correspondent of Herbert Spencer, 
Ernst Haeckel, and other leaders in the world of 
thought. He was the first president of the American 
Sociological Society, and was at various times president 
of the American Philosophical Society, the American 
Economic Association, the International Geological 
Congress, and the International Institute of Sociology, 
as well as the recipient of other distinguished honors in 
scientific fields. And yet, the world was, and largely 
is, ignorant of the depth and importance of his findings 
excepting always the feminist movement and the labor 
movements, which from the first showed a tendency to 
give him his due credit. 

A noteworthy example of the thinking world's un- 
awareness of his researches and conclusions appears in 
Sigmund Freud's Jenscits des Lusfprinzips (1920, trans- 
lated as Beyond the Pleasure Principle, in 1922). Seeking 
to find some original instinct underlying the omni- 
present pleasure-pain principle, Freud arrived deviously 
at this definition of instinct: 

"An instinct is a tendency, innate in living organic matter, 
impelling it toward the reinstatement of an earlier condition." 

All organic instincts then, he says, are conservative, and 
are directed toward reinstatement of an earlier con- 
dition. The final goal of all striving would then be a 
return to the ancient starting point, which is lifeless- 


ness: the goal of life is death. Freud was able to fit 
all the instincts into this hypothesis, except the sexual 
ones. He words his problem: 

"Of what important happening, then, in the process of the 
living substance, is sexual reproduction, or its forerunner, the 
copulation of two individual protozoa, the repetition?" 

He admits that he does not know the answer; saying 
that the lay mind quails, and even specialists have not 
been able to solve, the origin of sexual propagation, and 
the source of the sexual instincts. 

This could only have been written in a blank unaware- 
ness of Lester Ward's description of the procession of 
the sexes. Sexual mating originated, at about the stage 
of the barnacles, by the female's developing separate 
males on her own body, from which she selected her 
mate or mates. When it is realized that sexual union 
thus originated in the mating of the mother with her 
otTspring-husband, and this is compared with Freud's 
emphasis on the mother-son relationship, the Oedipus 
complex, the omitted importance of Ward in the Freu- 
dian system, as a scientific buttress for the psycho- 
analytic structure, is easily seen. 

The reason for this temporary obliviousness to Ward's 
theories and findings is complex. First of all, he wrote 
with an involved polysyllabic vocabulary, which made 
his work, in the main, unintelligible to the lay mind, 
and discouraged even the scientists. Secondly, Amer- 
ican science, in the past, only slowly penetrated Euro- 
pean thought since until recently the American mind 
has been regarded as a provincial adjunct of European 
thought. There has been no impressive attempt even at 
a rebuttal or denial of Ward's thinking; and, without 



SOCIOLOGY AMONG THE SCIENCES. In the preface to the 
first edition of Dynamic Sociology, Ward points out the 
following as his five major generalizations, relatively 
original with him: 

( 1 ) The law of aggregation, as distinguished from that of 
evolution proper. 

(2) The theory of the social forces, and the fundamental 
antithesis which they imply between feeling and func- 

(3) The contrast between these true social forces and the 
shaping influence of the intellect, which embodies an 
indirect method of striving instead of a direct. 

(4) The superiority of artificial, or purposive, processes, 
over natural processes. 

(5) The recognition and demonstration of the paramount 
necessity for the equal and universal distribution of the 
extant knowledge of the world. 

This last Ward saw as the crowning point of his whole 
system the necessity for universal education, as the 
one clear, overshadowing, and immediate social duty to 
which all others are subordinate. It is to be doubted 
if the mind of man has yet invented a more compre- 
hensive and promising program for social betterment. 
Sociology, or the science of living beings in their 
group relationships, insofar as it can be said to have had 



a definite origin, was founded by Auguste Comte, who 
first made use of the term in his Coiirs de Pbilosopbie 
Positive, vol. iv, p. 185, (3rd edition, 1838). The 
conceptions upon which the science rests, however, are 
much older, Comte himself ascribing their first utterance 
to Montesquieu and Condorcet. The essential element 
in the idea of a social science is the recognition of the 
regularity and uniformity of social phenomena. Statis- 
tics have established this as to most group phenomena; 
modern scientists accept it as applying to all. 

Since science includes the classification of all knowl- 
edge, the classification of the sciences themselves is im- 
portant. Ward improves upon the tentative attempts 
of Comte and Spencer in this direction, and arrives at 
this order: 

( 1 ) Astronomy. 

(2) Physics. 

( 3 ) Chemistry. 

(4) Biology. 

( 5 ) Psychology. 

(6) Sociology. 

To justify the emphasis upon this, Ward indicates two 
unanimous conclusions of the leading scientists of his 

( 1 ) A belief in the universality of causation. 

(2) The improvement of the human race upon this planet 
as the ultimate aim for human effort. 

The first of these is more doubtful today; the second is 
largely held unnecessary as a scientific end, which, more 
properly, according to many thinkers, is the under- 
standing of phenomena. In any case, sociology, as 


Comte pointed out, must occupy the final place in any 
logical or evolutionary scale of the sciences. 

At the very inception of his work, Ward utters a 
generalization from which the most advanced modern 
psychologist would not differ: 

"The motive of all action is feeling. All great movements 
in history are preceded and accompanied by strong feeling. And 
it is those persons whose feelings have been most violent that 
have exerted the greatest influence upon the tone and character 
of society." 

The condemnation and death of Socrates, the Niagara 
of anti-Darwinism, indicated the treatment that feeling 
accords to purely intellectual attitudes. Nothing but 
a counter-current of vaster feeling can alter man's re- 
jection of these intellectual leaders into an acceptance 
of them. 

Intellectual systems for the improvement of society 
have never had the influence that moral and religious 
systems have had. These, which have failed in the past, 
and offer small hope for the future, are furnished with 
two primary inducements (1) an increase of enjoyment, 
based upon egoism; and (2) a diminution of suffering, 
based upon altruism. Egoism demands for the self an 
increase of enjoyment and a diminution of discomfort; 
altruism demands these results for others. These two 
are in essence one, since altruism is only an indirect form 
of egoism in which the motive is sympathy a higher 
and nobler, though a far less powerful, sentiment than 
egoism proper. Such true progress as has taken place 
in society has come from the side of intellect, and not 
of feeling; and yet it has been natural progress, due 
to the control of external nature, and not under the 
control of man's own mind. It is natural selection that 


has created intellect; but this intellect has never been 
given the reins of control over man's own progress. Man 
has improved plants and animals and his inanimate en- 
vironment; he has made better wheat and better hogs; 
but he has not yet applied this intellect to the creation of 
better men. 

The intellect is never a propelling force; it can be at 
best only a guiding force. Man's inventions and dis- 
coveries so far have arisen out of the propelling forces 
of hunger and want. The directive force must be the 
intellect plus facts; in other words, knowledge. The 
first element of a truly progressive system is popular 
scientific education. What we need is a man-purposed 
progress. The leading thinkers of today are steadily 
moving away from all conceptions of a god-purpose in 
nature, and toward an explanation of all phenomena on 
strictly evolutionary or mechanical principles. Man is 
the first and the only real purposive agent found in 
reality. It was man's own purposive actions which 
caused him to ascribe purpose to deity. 

Legislation is nothing else than social invention an 
effort so to control the forces of a state as to secure the 
greatest benefits to its people. Before progressive legis- 
lation can become a success, every legislature must be- 
come, as it were, a polytechnic school, and every 
legislator a master of sociology. Inventions, including 
legislation, have grown from a utilization of impelling 
forces, into a conquest of attracting forces. Compul- 
sory legislation, the expression of brute governmental 
force, tends to give way to attractive legislation, in 
which rewards are promised for the performance of acts 
which the state thinks beneficial. A so-called human 
"law" is at best only a regulation, an attempt to con- 
trol and modify the results of the real laws which exist 


in society. The degree of social progress depends on 
the degree to which the natural play of the social forces 
is unimpeded and unrestricted. The normal tendency 
of compulsory legislation is to restrict the natural social 
forces, and to cause social stagnation. The degree of pos- 
sible social progress, once the social forces are scientifi- 
cally studied and encouraged by legislation, simply be- 
wilders the mind. 

Science may be defined as an explanation of the phe- 
nomena of the universe as presented to the senses. All 
phenomena need explanation, most of them presenting 
themselves to the senses and the mind as illusions mask- 
ing their true nature. Sense-impression itself, the appear- 
ance of the sun's revolution around the earth, of the 
earth's gravitational support, of its spherical shape, the 
great antiquity of the human race and of the earth, all 
these need explanation. Far more do such deeper mat- 
ters as the fact that organic and inorganic nature are 
one, and the fact that the human will is not at all free. 

Social progress may be divided into passive, or nega- 
tive, progress, in which the natural social forces operate 
in their natural freedom, subject only to the laws of 
evolution in general; and active, or positive, progress, 
in which a force external to and distinct from the 
natural forces is applied to them. The chief quality of 
this new force is purpose, which emanates only from 
man. That potent social theory which calls itself the 
laissez faire school, or the "let-alone" policy, would con- 
fine progress to passive, or negative, progress. 

"No progress is real," says Ward, "that does not con- 
stantly show a reduction of the aggregate suffering or 
an increase of the aggregate enjoyment throughout 
society." No means thus far adopted, he concludes, 
has ever yet accomplished this. The practical task of 


sociology is, reduced to its simplest terms, the organiza- 
tion of feeling: the regulated satisfaction of that reser- 
voir of feeling which constitutes the human body. 

The progress toward which dynamic sociology points 
is an artificial, purposive progress, as distinguished from 
a natural, evolutionary progress. While the fine arts 
may aim toward imitating nature, and may sometimes 
surpass it, the practical arts progress only by departing 
from nature's methods. Useful art is a departure from 
nature, and an improvement upon it. All progress con- 
sists in adaptation. But this adaptation is of two kinds: 
passive, and active. The former represents natural 
progress, as exhibited in a growth; the latter, artificial 
progress, as shown in a manufacture. The first comes 
from the innate tendency toward growth of matter; the 
second, from a purpose. 

Natural progress, first of all, involves enormous waste. 
In natural progress, to use an example from physics, the 
means must be close to the end, and is applied directly 
to it, without the leverage by which results apparently 
become disproportionate to their causes. As organization 
progresses, the growth method gives way to the pur- 
posive method; the means moves further and further 
from the end; and the amount of purchase or leverage 
is correspondingly increased. Mind excels matter, as an 
agent of change, not by virtue of its greater strength, 
but by its peculiar ability to apply itself to the long end 
of the lever, thus gaining an immense advantage over all 
the counter- forces of inertia and resistance that must 
be overcome. 

In the perpetuation of life, for example, there is an 
appalling waste of life-germs. Cities grow up haphaz- 
ardly, and constantly require expensive readjustments 
to meet conditions which a little foresight might have 


provided for from the start. The pioneer settlement of 
a country always shows the same lack of foresight. 

Social science suffers, more than any of the other 
sciences, from the fact that attempts to go back to 
fundamental principles are decried, by the inert and 
morbid attitude of the majority of the civilized world, 
as immoral and shocking. There is scarcely an impor- 
tant principle of sociology which has not shocked the 
sense of the age, and been condemned as an attack upon 
the existing order. Thus is social progress thwarted at 
every step. Society's various institutions are hedged 
about with a sanctity, a sense of taboo or "don't touch," 
which it would be sacrilege to invade. 

Again, all labor performed in the interest of progress 
is unremunerativc. The utterance of progressive ideas 
is not paid for; it is not even welcomed. The employ- 
ments that bring financial return are all non-progressive. 
The financial rewards go to the merchants and other 
non-producing professions, and to those who labor for 
the maintenance of the existing status, such as lawyers, 
judges, and officers of government. The three classes 
who have made all the contributions to the world's 
advancement, says Ward, have been forced to make this 
as an unpaid "labor of love." These three classes are 
the mechanical inventor, the scientific discoverer, and 
the philosophic thinker. In spite of the rewards gar- 
nered by some inventors, the typical member of the class 
has lived in penury and died in poverty, while he has 
seen the products of his brainwork stolen to enrich some 
human leech. The scientific discoverers, as a rule, have 
had the same fate, unless they have been armed in 
advance with means and leisure, a fact which goes far 
to deny the comforting untruth of the claim that great 
success is most likely to come from hardship and oppo- 


sition. The great thinkers of the world have shared 
about equally these two conditions. 

There seems no help for this state of affairs. The 
reformer ploughs a new field. His principles are often 
unsound, and almost always mistrusted. Success is the 
only commodity that man pays for; and the reformer's 
success is usually placed, not in the present, but in the 
uncertain future. In modern society, not only does the 
worthless command the pay, but the truly valuable is 
often kept systematically out of view. Those least 
meriting it, most desire man's applause. The really 
meritorious person shrinks from notoriety, and scorns 
applause not rendered strictly for merit. And merit is 
rarely sufficiently appreciated to secure its own public 

Lastly, human progress is defeated by man's ignorance 
of his own interests. The intended beneficiaries of any 
reform often most bitterly oppose it. The slave vehe- 
mently clings to his chains; the ignorant hug their 
ignorance to their bosoms. This has been the record of 
natural progress; for purposive progress has not yet 

"Until it does [begin], society is as liable to succumb to 
an adverse wave of reaction, and suffer extinction, as is any 
race or species of animals or plants; and we know that this is 
constantly occurring." 

It is the task of dynamic sociology to overcome these 
bars to progress. 

Ward proceeds from this high peak to a close exami- 
nation of the philosophic systems of Comte and Spencer, 
both of whom base their attitudes upon the absolute 
unity of nature and its laws in all their manifestations 
the grand monistic conception, the final crown of 


thought, which rounds out at least the outlines of 
philosophy into a form admissible of no further im- 
provement. This clearing away of the errors in existing 
systems of philosophical and sociological thought was 
necessary, in order for Ward to go ahead. We are not 
as interested in his analysis of the errors of others, how- 
ever, as in his own system. 

STAGE. True scientific progress tends constantly to in- 
crease the number of known facts, and to reduce the 
number of fundamental concepts. In accordance with 
the principle of parsimony, today's scientific thinking has 
narrowed the basis of the universe down to three basic 
elements which may be called matter, motion and 
energy. Movements, which promise success, are on foot 
to reduce these three to one. The dynamists seek to 
reduce all reality to energy; the materialists, to matter. 
Each theory is a legitimate attempt to enlarge our con- 
ception of the universe, by eliminating unnecessary 

The progress of physical science from the first has 
tended steadily toward the recognition of the reality of 
matter. Ward accepts the materialist hypothesis, as 
appearing to bear the strongest marks of inherent truth. 
Energy is accounted for as a relation- of matter; and so 
is motion. The two primary relations of matter are 
co-existence and sequence. Beside matter itself, only 
the relations of matter can be conceived to exist. Motion, 
or the changes of the position of the parts of matter in 
space, is matter's most important relation. This always 
occupies time. From the spatial standpoint, such changes 
are regarded as co-existence; from the temporal, as 
sequence. These two categories embrace all possible 


At the bottom of all philosophy Ward sees two 
questions: (1) what is to be understood by the term 
matter? and, (2) what is to be understood by the term 

Matter, he says, is what it seems to be. Matter is 
indefinable. It is the final limit in the definition of 
everything else. All definitions involve the use of terms 
involving the notion of matter. Yet something may be 
said of the ultimate constitution of matter. The most 
successful experiments in molecular physics have been 
those which have been based on the assumption that the 
so-called molecular forces were nothing other than mani- 
festations of ordinary matter in extremely minute par- 
ticles, acting in relation to each other and to other 
objects. As to whether there is any limit to the divisi- 
bility of material molecules, science simply confesses its 
ignorance. Philosophy can go further, and postulate 
a unit of indivisible matter, with the sole qualification 
that this must be larger than zero. 

Yet the constitution of the mind is such, that it can 
never conceive of a limit to the smallness of matter. No 
more can it conceive of a time for the beginning of 
matter. Beyond each of these, it can imagine smaller 
units, an earlier time of origin. In the same way, 110 
limit can be set to space. Whatever is true of matter 
is also true of its relations. Matter is recognizable only 
by means of these relations; although they are in them- 
selves nothing. The relations of matter are its properties. 
Matter without relations would be matter without 
properties; and this is practically inconceivable. 

But what, then, is force? It may be expressed as 
pressure; or, more clearly, impact. Such phenomena as 
light and heat indicate that matter, in a primary or 
unaggregated state, pervades all space. Gravitation 


similarly seems to call for the presence of some universal 
material substance. If it is ever explained, it will proba- 
bly be by some law of mechanical impact. Force may 
be defined as molecular impact: the effect which matter 
in its motion through space exerts upon other matter 
with which it comes in contact. Thus everything which 
is not matter is some relation between separate parts of 
matter. Matter is the only reality. 

The motions of matter fall under two general classes: 
those which tend to unite, the gravitant; and those 
which tend to separate the particles or atoms, the radiant. 
Commencing with matter assumed to exist in a wholly 
unaggregated and undiflfering state, but endowed with 
indestructible motions, the necessary result must be that 
in certain parts of space certain kinds and degrees of 
aggregation of matter will take place. This would cause 
the existence of many kinds of matter, instead of one 
kind. Matter existing in an undiflfering state is unstable; 
in any space, this would alter into a many-kindedness 
of matter, a state of greater or less aggregation. The 
special study of material philosophy, therefore, is the 
aggregates of matter. 

There is, logically, no practical limit to the possible 
variety and multiplicity of the forms of these aggrega- 
tions. But the aggregating force is constantly in con- 
flict with the disintegrating force. Continuing aggregates 
would be arrived at by a process of selection, those only 
resisting immediate disintegration which possess some- 
thing special in their natures that fits them to resist the 
scattering process. The law of the "survival of the 
fittest" must be recalled, from secondary aggregations 
the life forms to explain the possibility of the forma- 
tion of primary aggregates, or molecules. 

The process of aggregation, it may be safely assumed, 


consisted from the first in a compounding of aggregates 
previously formed. Aggregates qualifying under the 
law of selection would in turn become units of aggre- 
gation for higher steps in the process. This would give 
rise to successive orders of aggregation. Chemistry 
especially illustrates many compounds into which, not 
elemental molecules, but combinations of molecules, go 
to form the higher compound. Sulphuric acid 
(H 2 SO 4 ), for example, is composed of two equivalents 
of hydroxyl (HO) and of theionyl (SCX), constituents 
which remain intact, as compounds, when they go to 
form the higher aggregation. 

The present conception of a molecule disproves the 
idea of permanent contact among the atoms, and re- 
gards it rather as a system of atoms the atom being 
the supposed elementary unit of chemistry. No matter 
how much further the mind may divide the atom, the 
same principle would apply. The nature of a molecule 
is not different from that of a chemical atom, and this 
again is only that of any aggregate whatever. 

The lowest aggregates which have been studied in 
their free state are the so-called chemical elements. 
These appeal, directly or indirectly, to our senses, and 
this causes us to recognize their existence. Although 
they may ultimately be decomposed, for practical pur- 
poses we may start with them, as aggregates of a com- 
paratively high order and stable organization. By the 
aid of the telescope and the spectroscope, we find the 
various starry bodies composed of a small number of 
these elements. From this point Ward leads on to a 
general ratification of the Nebular Hypothesis. The 
aggregates entering into the ultimate formations of suns 
and worlds are molecular aggregates combined into 
masses of similar molecules, or molar aggregates. The 


solar system, including the earth, has developed accor- 
ding to this theory. The sun is still in the period of 
primary aggregation, or lifelessness; in Jupiter and 
Saturn this period is drawing to its close. In the earth, 
and perhaps also in Mars and Venus, this period has 
passed by, or nearly so, and has been succeeded by what 
may be called the life period. So much for the primary 
question of philosophy, What is matter? 

As to the second question, What are relations? Chemis- 
try especially gives ample testimony, in its higher com- 
pounds, that these are merely varied manifestations of 
matter. Matter is the only reality. 

phenomena exhibit three definite stages: life; mind; man. 
In the original state of intense heat, the formation of 
composite substances was impossible. As the heat dimin- 
ished, more and more unstable substances were formed 
Long after the oxides, acids, alkalies, salts, and metallic 
compounds were formed, the heat diminished so that car- 
bonic acid and, later water, were formed; and, still later, 
many unstable compounds, chiefly composed of oxygen, 
nitrogen, hydrogen, and carbon substances which we 
call organic or life compounds. These were formed by 
nature directly out of the lifeless compounds. 

The transition from the lifeless to the life period is 
purely nominal; the existence of any definite line mark- 
ing off one of these fields from the other has long been 
denied. If there were any advantage in such a line, 
perhaps it could best be drawn in the place where carbon 
unites with hydrogen or nitrogen, either with or with- 
out oxygen. The lifeless compound closest to the life 
series would be carbonic acid, of whose lifeless origin 
there can be no doubt. Among the important organic 
compounds are the so-called organic bases and the 


albuminoids, whose base is a substance, perhaps purely 
theoretical, called protein. Even the albuminoids are 
incapable of any visible automatic movement; and yet 
their molecular activity is so extensive and varied, com- 
pared to ordinary lifeless bodies, that it might be called 
molar by comparison. 

For the origin of life, a more complex aggregation of 
the albuminoids is necessary, growing naturally out of 
them. There is a generic resemblance among the sub- 
stances of which all living cells are composed; these sub- 
stances are grouped under the term protoplasm. 

In certain low protoplasmic forms, when the maxi- 
mum bulk is attained by aggregation, dissolution takes 
place; in others, division into two bodies, which in turn 
grow and divide. This new form of nutrition is called 
reproduction. Among higher forms of this reproduction 
are budding, and a form in which the entire individual 
resolves itself into a number of minute individuals. In 
this instance, the parent is sacrificed in the birth of the 
children; and, out of this, the reproduction of higher 
organisms has developed, by which a few germs are 
specialized for the purpose and expelled from the body 
of the parent without injury to her. This process is 
known as virgin birth. 

Sexual differentiation is independent of the primary 
principle of reproduction. It will be arrived at later. 
In the structural development of higher forms of life, 
the cell- wall ultimately becomes double; each of these 
Vails doubles; and this gives us the four layers that 
constitute the tissues of higher animals: (1) the skin 
layer; (2) the muscular layer; (3) the vascular layer; 
and (4) the mucous layer. Vegetable forms develop 
more simply, but similarly, utilizing a form of proto- 


plasmic activity called cbloropbyl as the framework of 

From a logical standpoint, living organisms may be 
divided into: 

A. Those organisms capable of assimilating chemical or inor- 
ganic matter as the frame-work of their tissues. 

(1) Those which manufacture protoplasm only as, the 
plasson bodies, and all strictly one-celled animals. 

(2) Those which manufacture protoplasm, and also some 
form of protective shield or shell, as the Diatoms. 

(3) All organisms which can decompose carbonic acid and 
employ its carbon to strengthen their tissues. These 
are true plants, and always contain chlorophyl. 

B. Organisms which depend upon the appropriation of manu- 
factured tissue, or parasites. 

(1) Fungi, lichens, etc., fixed like plants, and of low or- 

(2) True parasitic plants, degenerated from chlorophyl- 
bearing plants. 

(3) Animals proper. 

The third groups of each division alone attain to a high 
form of organization, and are ordinarily called plants 
and animals. 

Among the properties of protoplasm is that of being 
able to contract and extend its mass, due to the influence 
of its touching environment. This phenomenon has 
been named irritability. This implies the property that 
we call sensibility. The simple motion of the mole- 
cules, which produces the change of form called irrita- 
bility, is exclusively a life phenomenon, and constitutes 
in the last analysis the sole fact in the idea of life. But 
this is also the point at which the phenomena of mind 
take their origin; and at this point biology (the science 
of living matter) and psychology (the science of mind) 


diverge. In the abstract sense, life and mind are two 
sides or phases of one common truth, the molecular 
change in the higher aggregates of matter. 

Sensation is the conscious susceptibility of a substance 
to the impressions made upon it by other substances 
brought into contact with itself. The real problem is 
how is matter rendered conscious? Consciousness must 
be assumed to inhere in every molecule of protoplasm 
to a limited degree; in certain shaped masses, it becomes 
so intensified as to be inferable from the actions of the 
substance. Irritability is the effect expressed in terms 
of movement, which we perceive; sensibility is the effect 
expressed in terms of the organism's awareness, which we 
infer from our own constitution. 

Nerves are mechanisms for the organization of the 
properties of protoplasm. Protoplasm is not only "the 
physical basis of life"; it is also the physical basis of 
mind. It constitutes the nerves. All else connected with 
them is apparatus. The lowest organisms are all nerves. 
As the organization progresses upward in complexity, 
specialized nerve-centers are connected by nerve- trunks; 
when one of these assumes control over the rest, it is 
called the brain. The cerebral lobes, new and superadded 
structures, designed to increase the power of co-ordinat- 
ing the impressions or states of consciousness of the 
sensory center, produce what is understood by the term 
thought. Thought may be defined as the comparison of 
experiences and remembrances, which in themselves are 
no more than revived experiences. 

The act of becoming conscious of the contact of an 
object is properly called sensation; the act of recogniz- 
ing the object is called perception. Perception is the 
root of the idea of knowledge. In recognizing the 
properties of an object, the nervous system, no matter 


how simple it may be, knows the object. The power of 
cognition, or the capacity to acquire knowledge of ob- 
jects, is the essential quality of intellect. Its power in man 
is only an amplification of the power or capacity residing 
in the lowest organized beings. The process of bringing 
together an actual or present impression with a recalled 
experience is called thinking, and the object of all 
thought is truth. In short, the thinking process is one 
of representation. 

Sensation and feeling are really one and the same 
thing. Sensations which are indifferent, that is, not con- 
nected with agreeableness or disagrceableness, give us 
knowledge of the properties of objects. The sensations 
which give rise to pain and pleasure are the original 
sources of the emotions. The former aid in perfecting 
perception; the latter, which aid in maintaining the op- 
erations of the organism, in preserving life, and in per- 
petuating the species, have been given by nature the 
property of pleasurableness. Only in the two most 
important functions, alimentation and propagation, does 
the pleasure become extreme; the supreme necessity for 
the performance of these is the reason for their in- 

The one thing common to all emotions, properly 
considered, is the sentiment of desire. As life rises in 
complexity, desires conflict. The social instinct, an out- 
growth of those emotions which tend to preserve life and 
perpetuate the race, has grown out of the economic laws 
of adaptation. Out of the conflict between this social 
instinct and the selfish desires of an individual has grown 
the so-called "social compact," due to a recognition of 
the benefits such a social group will give, in compensa- 
tion to the individual for the postponement or denial of 
his individual desires. The moral instinct has grown out 


of the same causes, and is practically identical with the 
social instinct. 

Social and moral desires are founded upon: (1) affec- 
tion, arising out of family instincts; (2) reason, the ra- 
tional belief that cooperation is more beneficial; and 
(3) sympathy, the painful sensation in highly nervous 
organizations at the sight of suffering in others. Each is 
clearly egoistic. These are called the higher sentiments 
or impulses. The mental phenomenon called will is 
manifested always when two antagonistic motives are 
struggling for mastery in the same individual at the 
same time; that is, when only one of two actions can be 
performed, and a desire exists to perform them both. 
The will means simply that one of the desires prevails 
over the other, and the action is performed at the com- 
mand of the conquering impulse or desire. 

The series of psychic effects is this: 

(1) A sensation, when the properties of an object in contact 
with the subject become known to the subject. 

(2) A perception, when the sensation makes the properties 
of the object cognized or known to the subject. 

(3) An impression, the bodily molecular change in the 
nerve-substance of the subject. 

(4) A conception, the psychic state by which impressions, 
similar but not identical, are recognized as such, and 
thus logically grouped. 

Memory is nothing but the fact that impressions once 
recognized possess a greater or less degree of perma- 
nence. Reason is the intellectual power which exerts it- 
self, in the co-ordination of perceptions, conceptions, 
ideas, and all the psychological units. Simple, direct, or 
intuitive reasoning is called judgment; compound or 
indirect reasoning is called ratiocination or reasoning. 


Intellect is the mere mental capacity; intelligence is this, 
plus all registered experiences. It is intellect plus knowl- 
edge. It varies with the amount of education. What- 
ever increases intelligence, as an increase of knowledge, 
will also increase intellect; for an organ is strengthened 
by use. At every point, science points to education as 
the great lever of human advancement. 

High in the ascending scale of backboned mammals 
we find the apes, and man. The highest apes and the 
lowest men approach each other to a remarkable degree. 
The growth of the human embryo passes up through the 
ascending scale of life, and includes, just before man 
is reached, a stage of apchood. Science has established 
the single origin of all the races of men. At some stage 
of ape progress some one group of the ape family ac- 
quired certain of the characteristics which distinguish 
the human from the ape family. These include an in- 
creased capacity of the cranium, an erect posture of the 
body, certain differences in the feet, shorter arms in 
proportion to the trunk, a comparative absence of hair 
from most of the body and limbs, and a double curva- 
ture of the spine. These grow naturally out of the 
tendency of all organs to vary constantly. A need to 
protect themselves from animal enemies, once they be- 
came ground-dwellers instead of tree-dwellers, and the 
need to make up for the loss of foods obtainable more 
easily by tree-dwellers, would cause the increase of cun- 
ning, which meant an increase proportionately of brain 
mass. Increased brain mass would tend to cause the 
erect posture, as a heavier brain could be better sup- 
ported by the entire body than by the neck alone. The 
fore-limbs would then be modified to suit the altered 
needs. The human voice, and language, grow naturally 


out of their rudimentary form in the sounds uttered by 

TIONS. The development of societies is merely a continu- 
ation of the process of aggregation. The essential pre- 
requisite of all true social union is a sufficient brain 
development to perceive, however dimly, the advantages 
of association. Society, in its literal or primary sense, is 
simply an association of individuals. It is probable that 
man was not originally social by nature. While he was 
not wholly a flesh-eating animal, there are evidences that 
the ancestors of man once possessed tusks or canine teeth 
clearly designed as weapons of attack. 

The development of human society has passed through 
four stages: (1) A solitary animal, or one living in 
small groups. (2) The multiplication of individuals 
and comparative safety from external dangers rendered 
the accumulation of individuals in certain localities a 
physical necessity. This made an uncongenial and forced 
association, with the utmost liberty and the utmost li- 
cense. ( 3 ) The establishment of the first rudimentary 
elements of government, based upon the necessity for 
some form of regulation, at first chiefly of the sexual 
relations, and later of the rude proprietary interests that 
began to arise. This stage grew into tribes and nations, 
into larger and larger aggregations, which warred upon 
one another. (4) "Government, so necessary for the 
prevention of internal war, became the cause of exter- 
nal war, yet the latter was undoubtedly the lesser of the 
two evils, and will itself disappear, in turn, when all gov- 
ernments shall be consolidated into one. This event, if 
realized, will form the fourth stage of social progress." 
The four stages, then, are the self -ruling, the enforced 



aggregate or anarchic stage, the national stage, and, 
lastly, the single government of all men. 

When we come to an analysis and classification of the 
social forces, we find the following a complete and log- 
ical classification: 

I Positive, gustatory (seeking 
Negative, protective (avoid- 
ing pain). 



I Direct. The sexual and love 
Indirect. Parental and family 

XT^XT T-COT^XTTT AT f Esthetic Forces, seeking beauty. 
NON-ESSENTIAL ) ^ , ~ , . , 3 , 

FORCFS 1 E motlona * Forces, seeking the good. 

[ Intellectual Forces, seeking the truth. 

The first and greatest of the motives to human action 
are the preservative forces. These first manifested them- 
selves definitely when there occurred the recognition of 
property. Property, first vaguely regarded as belonging 
to the group, even among the lower races began to de- 
velop as ownership by the individual. Two painful 
bodily states, which may be grouped under the terms 
hunger and cold, the first positive, the second negative, 
may be grouped together as want. Man's actions in 
satisfying these desires were based upon feeling, and not 
upon function. 

Mind cannot satisfy these desires, without bodily labor. 
Whenever in later times it has secured subsistence for 
many bodies without labor, it is always true that, for 
every idle body, there has been one doubly taxed. Man 
developed through a hunting stage; a pastoral or flock- 
raising stage; and into an agricultural, or crop-raising 
stage. The hunting stage sharpened and strengthened 


the body; the pastoral stage encouraged revery and im- 
agination; the farming stage stimulated energy and 
thought, and did not dull the feelings. Each stage was 
an advance upon the spontaneous methods pursued by 
animals; each required an exercise of genius, a certain 
amount of calculation and invention. 

The objects whose source can become a proper sub- 
ject of ownership must be the results of some amount 
of labor; they must be products of human skill. The 
milk, flesh, and skins of domesticated animals, the fruits 
of the earth, are the best exemplifications of this. Thus 
flocks and the soil could become possessions. This recog- 
nition of permanent property provided man with an 
object to pursue, an incentive to industry beyond the im- 
mediate demands of his nature. It substituted a future 
for a present enjoyment. A thousand new desires sprang 
up, as the new and varied objects of skill and labor mul- 
tiplied. Raw food was no longer endurable; it had to 
be prepared into delicate dishes. Houses and garments 
were improved and became more complicated. 

In the end, property came to be recognized as the 
measure of human happiness. The pursuit of wealth 
was recognized as the pursuit of happiness. This pur- 
suit bred strife; and avarice, a wholly derivative senti- 
ment, grew to be one of the ruling passions. The idea 
of permanent possession not only contributed to man's 
self-preservation; it aroused his faculties, and gave him 
intelligence. The conception of permanent possession 
gave to civilization its first impulse. 

The sole human effort was to acqtiire, with no such 
consideration as justice entering into the desire. With 
the possible exceptions of air and some water, all the 
wealth in civilized countries is the result of production. 
In addition to the class who labored to produce wealth, 


a class grew up who spent their energies in appropriating 
the product of other men's labor. They held that their 
business was, to them, as honorable and useful as that of 
the producers. 

The normal form of intellectual action is deception. 
It is a deception to catch and domesticate an animal; it 
is a sort of deception to wrest a surplus product from 
the soil. Sagacity, cunning, genius, all necessarily imply 
deception. It may indeed be said that invention is de- 
ception. The law of nature is the "right of might." 
Natural justice is merely the law of force. Certain 
forces caused a transition from this natural justice to 
what may be called civil justice, and grew out of: 

(1) Increase in the susceptibility to sympathy. 

(2) Increase in the capacity for foretelling effects. 

(3) Decrease of the power to perform desired acts. 

The moral progress of the world is more apparent than 
real, especially as regards respect for proprietary rights. 
Supreme selfishness is presumed in all business transac- 
tions; and it is reasonably presumed. To depend upon 
anything else is to build upon quicksand. The chief 
effect produced by social regulation in altering the meth- 
ods of acquisition has been the substitution of cunning 
for brute force. The law of acquisition is as strong now 
as ever; the progress made has consisted in softening the 
harshness of the method. For a blow on the head we 
have substituted a polite highwayman, operating legally. 

"Throughout the world the tendency of civilization is 'to 
make the poor poorer and the rich richer'/' 

In matters of government, an unrepresented class is al- 
ways deprived of its rights. 


"The first step toward taking away liberty or life is to take 
away property. It is but a step from penury to slavery. Who 
shall calculate how large a part of all human suffering is due 
to poverty? 5 * 

The poorest people in the world are, if not the most en- 
terprising and energetic, at least the most industrious and 
laborious. We find that the greater part of this inequal- 
ity of wealth is due to 

"Mere accident, as devoid of mental or moral character as 
are the inequalities of the earth's surface; due to some bare 
chance, some physical fatality, some accidental coincidence, 
some ancient social convulsion, some act of remote ancestors, 
or some vice or virtue of parents." 

Food replaces the natural waste of the body; medicine 
repairs unnatural derangements. And all substances 
which are not foods may be called poisons. Man's food 
comes from the inorganic, the vegetable, and the animal 
kingdoms. The labor required to obtain it has been 
called primary production. Secondary production is 
used to produce clothing, the means of shelter, and the 
implements, utensils, and other devices of production. 
One of man's first arts was the art of producing fire. 
Clothing and shelter, for protection from the weather, 
required a high development of man's inventive facul- 

Even from the beginning, some means of distribution 
was needed in order to have the products properly reach 
the potential consumers. Distribution includes trans- 
portation, exchange, and all other necessary intermediate 
negotiations. Long before recorded history, traffic in 
useful commodities was going on throughout the world, 
causing man to become familiar with the remoter sec- 


tions of his world. There arose finally the merchant 
class, those in charge of the exchange of goods; and 
this class began to acquire wealth and princely fortunes 
most readily. In complex societies, this class diverts from 
the stream of production an abnormally large number of 
potential producers. Finance, or the manipulation of 
the medium of exchange, became a successful industry 
when it became a means of acquisition by, among other 
things, the invention of interest. These unproductive 
by-products of production have overbalanced produc- 

"The combinations, cooperations, and monopolies already 
established by shrewd distributors of wealth have become so 
extensive and complicated, that it may require a general social 
revolution to overthrow them." 

They have absorbed the most acute minds in the world; 
they have maintained and spread their grasp by every 
available form of deception, misrepresentation, and 
strategy, all within the sphere of natural law. Worse 
than the tendency to bloat the importance of these non- 
productive industries is the tendency to depreciate pro- 
duction itself. 

"Cooperation is as easy for the producers as for the non- 
producers; but they do not understand it as well; and, if they 
understood it, they would lack the intelligence to carry it into 
practical effect." 

Worse than the purely non-producing class is the non- 
industrial class, the parasites. The six chief methods of 
parasitism are: (1) robbery; (2) theft; (3) war; (4) 
statecraft; (5) priestcraft; (6) monopoly. 

"Between robbery and monopoly the difference appears very 
great, but it consists in two things, both of which are quanti- 


tative only. These are the rudeness and illegality of the former, 
as contrasted with the civility and legality of the latter/' 

Above robbery and theft, war is an ancient method of 
non-industrial acquisition. 

"Not a war can be mentioned . . . which did not have for 
its avowed object the appropriation of the possessions of those 
against whom it was waged." 

While some part of the work of government, or state- 
craft, can be classed as industrial, much of it is done for 
the simple gratification of the caprices of officials in 
power, who are usually more or less purely parasitic. 
Most of the labor of the ruling classes, when any labor is 
performed at all, is purely parasitic. Priestcraft "adds 
nothing, and aids in adding nothing, to the production 
of the objects of desire." Insofar as priests are diflf users 
of knowledge, they are not priests. Not all the doctrines 
in the world, nor all the prayers, would aid in carrying 
the community through an ordeal which threatened it 
with famine or destruction from climatic influences. Re- 
ligion is the appeal to the sentiment of fear of the un- 
known; and from prehistoric times the shrewd men have 
utilized it to enrich their pockets. "The reign of this 
parasitic hierarchy still continues all over the world; 
and still, today, the hard labor of the masses ... is 
paying its tithes , . ." to support this great non-indus- 
trial class, to erect costly tax-free edifices, serving no 
other purpose than to be opened once a week "that 
honors may be paid and anthems sung to imaginary dei- 
ties." There are monopolies of transportation, of ex- 
change, of finance, and, lastly, of labor. Human slavery 
is simply a monopoly of labor. Today there also exists 
the monopoly of capital, "which denies to the true pro- 


ducer the products of his labor, pays him meager wages, 
and derives large profits from the manufacture." The 
remedy for monopoly is cooperation an artificial prin- 
ciple, the result of superior intelligence. 

"Labor must retain possession of its products, and only 
transfer them to the consumer, making the processes of distri- 
bution wholly dependent upon and subservient to those of 

So much for the preservative forces. When we come 
to the reproductive forces, we are confronted at the be- 
ginning with the fact that the primitive method, by 
which woman selected her mate, has been replaced by 
man's selection. The marriage relationship was at first 
doubtless limited to a single reproductive act. Woman's 
passivity soon reduced her to a mere possession. After a 
state of pure promiscuity, marriage by seizure and forc- 
ible retention of the wife came into being. Polygamy, 
or one husband with many wives (more properly, poly- 
gyny), resulted from the successful effort of man to 
obtain the gratification demanded by his sexual nature. 
Polyandry, or one wife with several husbands, is far 
rarer, and arose, in part, from unusual industrial condi- 
tions, as in Tibet and Cashmere, where men are chiefly 
occupied in herding flocks at a great distance from their 
homes. It exists in civilized societies in a modified form, 
that of prostitution* 

"Whatever must be done secretly and clandestinely will be 
done improperly and become an evil, though it possess no in- 
trinsically evil elements/* 

Society declines to recognize the laws of nature, one of 
which is that by which the sexes seek each other. This 


cannot be checked by human regulation. For a number 
of reasons, society is constantly filled with men and 
women who have no legal access to each other; hence 
men seek illegal access to women. As in trade, demand 
will create a supply. Since woman is wholly dependent 
upon man for the means of subsistence, she will barter 
her virtue for a livelihood. 

'Tor life is dearer than virtue, and there is often more true 
virtue in this surrender of virtue than there would be in pre- 
serving it." 

Monogamy, the union of one man with one woman, is 
the remaining method. Incomplete and inadequate as 
it is, says Ward, it is a superior method to polygyny or 

Fear of attack and interruption growing out of primi- 
tive man's marriage by capture, making necessary the 
stealing away to some isolated spot to consummate the 
sexual act, is at the root of modesty. But this proprietary 
protection was only the foundation. Other elements 
soon entered into it, imparting to it its present peculiar 

The subjection of women by the male sex has pro- 
duced marked inequalities in the relationship of the 
sexes. The attire of women tends toward embellish- 
ment; that of men, toward utility. The health of 
woman has suffered from the relegation of woman to 
indoor occupations, while man labors outdoors. In- 
equalities in education and legal rights weigh heavily on 
woman, also. This inequality is detrimental to both 
sexes; and sociology welcomes the incipient movement 
toward an equality of the sexes. 

Among the non-essential social forces, there are the 


esthetic forces, those seeking beauty, including those 
which appeal to the eye, such as sculpture, painting, 
landscape-gardening, and architecture, and those which 
appeal to the ear, as music. Both form reliable social 
forces, and have contributed to social progress. 

The moral forces may be divided into the love-forces 
and the fear- forces. Parental love is especially strong in 
the female, and is the great bond of the family. Love 
of one's kindred grows out of the family bond, and is 
an artificial sentiment. These two sentiments expand 
into patriotism, spreading from love of the clan or tribe 
to love of the state. Philanthropy is the next higher 
step that sentiment which includes all mankind in its 
love. Self-love is the last, perhaps, and greatest among 
these sentiments. When it looks to the future, it takes 
the form of ambition; and this has been very potent in 
the development of society. 

The physical fear-forces are the lowest in the fear- 
group. Fear of man, fear of animals, fear of inanimate 
nature, have all played their part. The fear of spiritual 
beings is a last consequence of the tendency to personify 
natural objects. Fear of disease, while less apparent in 
its outward character, has had, nevertheless, a no less 
profound effect. It produced, at first, a group, which 
preyed upon the superstitions of mankind, which finally 
gave way to intelligent experts upon the subject. 

The psychical fear-forces are the fears men entertain 
concerning their supposed immaterial part, the soul. 
These are all of a religious nature. Not all religions con- 
tained the doctrine of immortality; it was Jesus and 
Mahomet who made this belief widespread. At the time 
that Christianity came into being, 


"there were indications, that the bonds of religious restraint 
were about to fall from the people, and the light of knowledge 
be admitted to all, just as we now see the forms of religion 
more and more ignored, and education further and further 
extended. But Christianity rekindled the religious zeal, pro- 
scribed philosophy, abolished the schools, and plunged the world 
into an abyss of darkness from which it only emerged after 
twelve hundred years." 

"Ignorant of what would have happened if this had not 
happened," says Ward, "nothing is left but to regard 
the advent of Christianity as a calamity." 

The intensity of both the Mohamedan and Christian 
religion must be attributed to the doctrine of immor- 

"There can be no doubt that this doctrine has exerted an 
exceedingly pernicious influence upon the progress of thought, 
of knowledge, of material civilization." 

There is little to recommend it, from a moral standpoint. 
The history of the Christian and Moslem faiths "has been 
one of dark and bloody deeds, of persistent hostility to 
all forms of true enlightenment, and to that extent of 
general injury to human interests." To the credit of 
the belief in immortality must be placed its believers' 
hopes and anticipations, these being pleasurable emo- 
tions. Though a purely egotistic sentiment of a very 
low order, still, as a real pleasure, it must not be over- 
looked. Yet the amount of suffering caused by fear of 
eternal damnation may overbalance this. If belief in 
immortality makes men happier, it does not make them 
wiser or more energetic; "its influence has constantly 
been to dampen man's ardor for the conquest of phys- 
ical nature, by which alone all true progress has been 


Last of all are tKe intellectual forces. These will be 
treated in detail later. 

society is to undertake seriously the artificial improve- 
ment of its condition upon scientific principles. Before we 
enter upon this, let us consider nature's attitude toward 
man; and man's proper attitude toward nature. 

Nature is the whole, of which man is a part. It is, 
moreover, man's ancestor. It is, lastly, unconscious. It 
is not intellect, will, or purpose that animates nature, 
but merely aggregation and adaption. 

"Mind is found only at the end of the series, and not at the 
beginning. It is the distinctive attribute of the creature, and 
not of the creator. It resides in man, and not in nature." 

Man's attitude toward nature should be, first, that of a 
student; and, second, that of a master. Nature can 
be studied with full impunity, having neither feeling 
nor will, neither consciousness nor intelligence. All 
true progress has been measured by man's growing mas- 
tery over Nature. That is why man should assume the 
attitude of a master, by which is meant the effort to 
exercise control over the forces of nature. 

All systems of thought which try to explain phenom- 
ena fall into two general divisions, the ideological, or one 
attributing purpose to nature; and the genetic, or one 
believing in the natural development. The thought of 
the past has erred in attributing purpose to nature, or 
to some imagined creator of the universe. Three schools 
of thought have developed from this teleological doc- 
trine: (1) divine free will, or continuous special inter- 
ference; (2) predestination, or fore-ordination; and (3) 
fatalism. All of these are contrary to what science has 


learned. The answer to these purposive beliefs might 
be called necessitarianism. Things are; they must be. 
That is enough. 

Among some of the errors which have cropped up in 
philosophic thought one of the most absurd has been 
the idea of the depravity of material objects. Thus, not 
only the human mind is depraved, but everything nat- 
ural is bad. Matter has, from time immemorial, been 
held to be inherently and essentially unholy and impure. 
Man, his every desire, passion, faculty, and attribute, 
have been held to be corrupt and unclean. Only re- 
cently has this belief begun to lose its strength. 

Another error has been the doctrine of optimism, 
growing out of the belief in an intelligent "Ruler of the 
Universe." The depravity doctrine grew out of the 
ideas of the exalted purity of the creator, contrasted with 
his dependent creatures, thought of as quite different. 
The doctrine of optimism, "everything is for the best," 
grew out of a belief in the creator's absolute goodness 
and ability to arrange things. This optimistic attitude 
is based either upon wilful blindness or inexcusable 
ignorance. Life itself offers thousands of instances where 
any provision "for the best" would have been the con- 
trary of things as we find them. Man's innate lack of 
correspondence with his environment might be illus- 
trated in a thousand ways. Society's similar lack of cor- 
respondence has already been touched upon. 

The process of nature is the least economical of all 
conceivable processes. The reproductive system, for in- 
stance, is maintained with wasteful prodigality. To 
hold its own, the octopus must lay 50,000 eggs. A 
single sturgeon emits 900,000 and more ova at one 
spawning. An eel may contain at one time 9,000,000 
eggs. A tape- worm was found to hold more than 1,000,- 


000,000 ova. One ordinary plant (Penicillium crmta- 
ceum) was found to contain 3,200,000,000 spores. 

There is no peace in nature. Even the vegetation is 
forever at war. In the animal kingdom the struggle is 
desperate and unceasing. The waste of reproductive 
power is enormous, in proportion to the amount of life 
brought forth; and by far the greater part of the life 
brought forth meets with premature destruction. Man's 
progress from savagery into barbarism, and from bar- 
barism into civilization, has been attended with the 
same wastefulness. Man has been at war with the ele- 
ments, with wild beasts, with his own kind. The com- 
petitive struggles of industry parallel the natural strug- 
gles of lower forms for subsistence. The same wasteful 
methods prevail in society as in the animal and vegetable 

Purposive or teleological phenomena appear only where 
mind is found; and they are the reverse of the natural 
phenomena below the stage of mind. Purposive actions 
are consciously produced. They aim at an end, or ob- 
ject, and consist of efforts to obtain these ends. The mo- 
tive of the effort is to secure a satisfaction of some desire; 
the direct object of the action can only be an intermed- 
iate means to the real end. 

All living organisms incessantly strive to secure the 
satisfaction of these desires. Actions may be classified 
into those that strive directly, and those that strive in- 
directly, to attain their end. The former class of ef- 
forts constitute true natural forces. These obey the 
mechanical axioms of physics as established by Newton, 
and are popularly known as the laws of motion. The 
intellectual faculty is the element required to make the 
transition to the indirect method. The intellectual ele- 
ment is not really a force, but a guide or director of 


forces. This method, by utilizing nature's forces, per- 
mits a great and increasing disproportion between the 
energy expended and the work accomplished. 

The remainder of Ward's Dynamic Sociology is de- 
voted chiefly to a discussion of sex terms, for which his 
definitions are as follows: 

A. Happiness Excess of pleasure or enjoyment over pain 

or discomfort. 

B. Progress Success in harmonizing natural phenomena 

with human advantage. 

C. Dynamic Action Employment of the intellectual, 

inventive, or indirect method of conation (the 
effort put forth in seeking satisfaction of desires). 

D. Dynamic Opinion Correct views of the relations of 

man to the universe. 

E. Knowledge Acquaintance with the environment. 

F. Education Universal distribution of extant knowledge. 

There are six corresponding theorems of dynamic soci- 
ology, each of which will be treated separately: 

A. Happiness is the ultimate end of conation. 

B. Progress is the direct means to Happiness; it is, 

therefore, the first proximate end of conation, or 
the primary means to the ultimate end. 

C. Dynamic Action is the direct means to Progress. 

D. Dynamic Opinion is the direct means to Dynamic 


E. Knowledge is the direct means to Dynamic Opinion. 

F. Education is the direct means to Knowledge. 

TION. At the basis of every philosophical system involv- 
ing the interests of men lie the phenomena of feeling. For 
all practical purposes, the vegetable kingdom may be 


placed in the insentient or non-feeling class, and the 
animal kingdom in the sentient or feeling class. Life 
without feeling is essentially passive; life with feeling is 
essentially active. 

Pleasure and pain are the leading characteristics of all 
feelings. When the principle of natural adaptation, or 
selection, is once fairly understood and applied to the 
phenomena of feeling, they yield readily to its magic 
touch. The dread of pain is the spur to all those activi- 
ties which really result in the preservation of life. The 
pleasure of gratifying desire is the spur which ensures 
that the nutritive and the reproductive functions will be 
performed. Feeling is a far higher protection than 
woody tissues, limey shells, or bony plates. 

The point of view from which the above has been rea- 
soned is the objective point of view, and is the standpoint 
of biology. From the subjective standpoint, the stand- 
point of the creature feeling, the means of nature be- 
comes the ends of the creature. The creature ignores the 
ends of nature, and looks no further than the phenomena 
of the feeling alone. Sentient existence has been made 
possible and the paramount ends of life accomplished 
through the simple efforts of the organism to obtain 
pleasure and avoid pain. All the activities of the organic 
world have for their sole object the attainment of pleas- 
ure, and the avoidance of pain. 

The recognition of this truth will involve a complete 
change of base of all philosophy. What function is to 
biology, feeling is to sociology. The progress of man can 
be measured by the elaboration in the satisfaction of the 
feelings. Nutrition has progressed from a mere bolting 
of food to the well-prepared, well-served and politely- 
eaten meals of today. The ritual of sex has broadened 
from the casual copulation of animals to the complexity 


of romantic courtship, love, and family life. The simple 
love of activity is one of the most powerful of all stimuli, 
and constitutes one of the most important factors in 
evolution. The esthetic sentiment, and, in the most 
highly developed individuals, the pleasures of the intel- 
lect are likewise of great importance. 

"Happiness consists in the realization of all positive 
forms of feeling, attended by a more or less complete 
absence of the negative forms, known as pain. Happi- 
ness, in this sense, is the sole end of life, the primary 
object of existence. . . . To attain happiness is to em- 
ploy the means whereby Nature works out her ends 
preservation, progression. . . . The progress of society 
must depend on the progress of the intellect, and, while 
the end of social as of individual being is to minister in 
the highest possible degree to the feelings, this end can 
only be accomplished by the most thorough cultivation 
of the intellect. . . . Human happiness, which is the 
ideal end of all social effort, can only be secured by the 
elevation and expansion of the reasoning powers of man, 
which constitute the indirect but sole effective means by 
which that end can be attained." 

Nature's ends are two subsistence and procreation. 
This may be called cosmical utility, since it is functional 
and biological, standing in contrast to individual ^Uility 
which rests on feeling, and is moral, or sociological. In- 
dividual utility demands the enjoyment of functional 

"Happiness is the only object of human effort; . . . 
utility aims to secure this object alone . . . nothing is 
useful unless it does so tend." 

This is the doctrine known as utilitarianism. Some of 
the objections raised to this are: first, that it makes man's 
aim low and undignified. Again, it is said that we should 


aim to secure, not happiness, but virtue. This is the 
popular idea, and has the advantage of plausibility. In 
considering this argument, the questions arise: What is 
the necessity for virtue? What good can it accomplish? 
Of what use is it when secured? It is obvious that the 
aim of virtue is to make men happier. It is, therefore, 
simpler and truer to say that man's ultimate object or 
end is happiness. 

Again, it is said that man is placed here for improve- 
ment, the object of his existence being his own develop- 
ment and perfectionment. Yet this in turn is only an- 
other means to securing greater happiness. Still another 
doctrine is that the great purpose of life is "the glory of 
God." Yet God, according to his believers, is already 
infinite in all things, "glory" included. The moralists 
who set up "doing right" as the end of men do not es- 
sentially differ from those who place virtue, a possible 
way-station on the road to happiness, as the end of man. 
In every case, happiness emerges as the real goal. 

Any action tending toward happiness is right; any 
action tending toward pain is wrong. When we see the 
people of a great city moving in all directions in search 
of money, love, fame, duty, and the like, all these can 
be resolved into the one real goal: happiness. The prob- 
lem of dynamic sociology is the organization of happi- 

namic sociology consists in applying the indirect method 
to the control of the social forces. The purpose of this 
control is the increase in the sum total of human happi- 
ness. What modifications must be effected in the social 
state to secure the required consummation? 

This calls for an examination of existing society. It 
is found to consist of progressive and anti-progressive 


elements. The existence of an intellectual force caused 
the formation of a large number of institutions, or de- 
vices for attaining desired ends, some belonging to the 
one class, and some to the other. The distinction be- 
tween these is not easy to make. Few realize how great 
is the susceptibility of man to error, especially in the 
lower stages of his development. A cunningly devised 
artificial system may be regarded as a blessing for ages, 
during which it is really degrading its defenders. 

More than half of mankind, if asked what they re- 
garded as the chief civilizing agency, would doubtless 
unhesitatingly answer, "Religion," each really meaning, 
"My religion." The second answer would probably be, 
"Government." Few would be found who adequately 
valued the truly beneficial agents: language, literature, 
the mechanical arts, and the exact sciences. 

There are those who say that, if progress means the 
increase of human happiness, it will follow that there has 
never been any progress at all. This is a short-sighted 
view. Human progress, consisting in a multiplication, 
variation, and refinement of the faculties of enjoyment, 
is a reality. 

All the varied initial wants of society, arranged in two 
great groups, were: (1) communication; (2) subsistence. 
Human art has advanced on two general lines one 
towards securing better means of intercommunication, 
the other towards securing better means of subsistence. 
The first of these is the response of the developing in- 
tellect to the demands of the mind; the second, its re- 
sponse to the demands of the body. 

In the communication group, the first great step that 
man made was the creation of a language. Language is 
the product of thought; speech is only the mode by 
which man expresses language. It grew out of the 


growth of ideas, and the desire to express them. Hence 
it \ras progressive; that is, it added to the sum total of 
enjoyment. The next great invention in this class was 
written language. Last of all, printing was invented, 
making written language the permanent and easily ob- 
tainable possession of the people. Written language has 
permitted man to keep a record of past events and to 
avoid obvious errors; providing, at the same time, an 
independent esthetic enjoyment. 

In the subsistence group, progress, up to the last three 
centuries, has been of a rather uniform character. The 
cause of the enormous acceleration within the last three 
hundred years is found to be almost wholly in the appli- 
cation, since the middle of the seventeenth century, of 
what is known as the Scientific Method to the develop- 
ment of inventive art. The introduction of the scien- 
tific method, combined with the invention of printing, 
made it possible for man to commence reorganizing the 
civilizing forces of the world. 

Civilization is due almost exclusively to the increased 
proportion of the artificial over the natural objects in 
contact with man. As a rule, this proportion is the 
measure of civilization. Civilization) then, may be de- 
fined as the artificial adjustment of natural objects, in 
such a manner that the natural forces will thereby pro- 
duce results advantageous to man. Those who com- 
plain that man was happier before civilization confound 
contentment and happiness. The former results from a 
lack of desire; the latter from its gratification. The first 
arises from the absence of pain; the second, from the 
presence of pleasure. Contentment is, therefore, nega- 
tive; happiness is positive. 

The chief progressive agencies have been language, 
literature, art, and science. The two chief non-progres- 


sive institutions have been government and religion. The 
very name of government implies its character. It is 
a system for enforcing obedience to positive laws: im- 
plying, of course, a disinclination on the part of the 
governed to comply with those laws. This curtailment 
of liberty, of the gratification of desires, constitutes an 
interruption to happiness. 

"Therefore, the whole effect of government, as exerted in 
this direction, is in this sense opposed to human happiness, and 
consequently, were there no benefit to offset it, would be 
opposed to social progress." 

There are other objects of government, beyond that of 
restraining the desires. These are: (1) protection, (2) 
accommodation, and (3) amelioration, or improvement 
of society. 

The people never seek a government; government al- 
ways originates itself. Government is an invention of 
the human mind, the emanation of a single brain or of 
a few cooperating minds more cunning and shrewd than 
the rest, intent on securing the gratification of a peculiar 
passion known as the love of power. It must be recog- 
nized, however, that government has been, at the same 
time, the result of development and social growth. In 
practice, government has been at once a protector of all 
the true civilizing agencies, and a barrier to their normal 
development. Government is fundamentally a neces- 
sity; yet it exercises a powerful influence in direct hos- 
tility to human progress. 

"Incapable from its nature of making society any better, it 
loses no opportunity to make it worse/* 


A true government should originate from popular de- 
mand, not from the desire of those anxious to govern. 
Its officials would be regarded, and would regard them- 
selves, as public servants, subject to removal on their 
failure to perform the service for which they were em- 
ployed. The people would be consulted on all impor- 
tant matters. Government would be merely the agent of 

"This is the primary quality of government which is neces- 
sary for the existence of society, viz., protection. If this were 
no longer required, if mankind were grown so wise as to be 
able to live in peace in society, as was once possible without 
society, still there would be need, not of government, but of 
organization. . . . This too [accommodation] is all that will 
one day be left of government." 

Liberty is merely man's power to act as he desires. 
The paradise of primitive liberty which man lost through 
his wisdom, he is now about to regain through his wis- 

"But the difference will be that the former was the uncon- 
scious anarchy of ignorance, while the latter will be the con- 
scious anarchy of intelligence." 

When we jail men for infringing the dictates of gov- 
ernment, we forget that they are but the victims of un- 
toward circumstances. 

"The murderer has but acted out his education. Would 
you change his conduct, change his education/' 

In the possible government of the future, "legislator, 
as a scientific investigator, would set for himself the task 


of devising means to render harmless those forces now 
seen to be working evil results, and to render useful 
those now running to waste." And, as a prerequisite to 
this, universal education would be the first step. 

Religion is the second anti-progressive element in so- 
ciety. The "minimum definition" of religion is Tylor's, 
"the belief in Spiritual Beings." According to Sir John 
Lubbock, "there are races so low in intellectual develop- 
ment as to possess nothing that can be dignified with the 
name religion." The following are the grades in the con- 
ception of a deity, as given by Lubbock: (1) atheism, or 
an absence of theology; (2) fetichism, or god-compul- 
sion; (3) nature- worship; (4) shamanism or priest-inter- 
vention; (5) idolatry; (6) theism, or god as the author 
of the universe; (7) theism joined with morality. Man's 
belief in spiritual beings arose from his attempt to ex- 
plain the phenomena of nature, which, caused by in- 
visible sources of power, led him to assume invisible 
beings, in other respects like himself, as the causes of 
natural phenomena, and from such states as dreams, 
epilepsy, mania, trance, as well as from reflections in 
the water, shadows, echoes, and death itself. All of 
these premises are based on facts; but the facts were in- 
correctly interpreted, due to lack of knowledge. No 
conclusive proof of immortality has ever been produced. 
In every sense, religion has acted as an anti-progressive 

progress must consist in some form of action. "Only 
those of man's actions which have sprung from the in- 
tellect have proved progressive; and only that class of 
intellectually directed actions which are the results of 
a correct interpretation of phenomena, and consisted in 
some application of correctly perceived principles of 


nature to human needs, have so proved/* The primary 
departments into which actions are divided are those of 
voluntary and involuntary actions. Voluntary actions 
may be divided into two classes: impulsive and delibera- 
tive. Where these desires conflict, we have those internal 
mental strifes with which man is so familiar. 

"Truth is usually on the side of deliberation, when in 
conflict with impulse. But it does not by any means 
follow that that side will triumph on which truth re- 

The conquest will go to the strongest desire. The forces 
within the man make the decision; he does not make it. 

As we trace back toward the savage state of man, the 
impulses are seen to predominate more and more. When 
we reach the animal stage, all actions are seen to be the 
result of impulses, generally speaking. For, in certain 
cases, animals exercise sagacity, which is the same as 
deliberation. Such impulsive acts as arise from impulses 
prompted by love, anger, ambition, avarice, have, with- 
out good reason, been deprecated by society. 

"That the prevailing sentiment of society on the 
question of the purity of the actions which spring from 
love is essentially false and injurious is evident from 
many indications. . . . The steady refusal of the popu- 
lar pulse to beat in unison with the moral precept may 
be counted among the most significant of these indices." 
It is curious to observe to what an extent the moral 
code is upheld in word, and violated in action. Even the 
sentiments of anger, ambition, and avarice may produce 
beneficial results. 

When we come to deliberative actions, we find that 
they are divided into two classes: those possessing moral 
quality, and those devoid of moral quality. Of the 
former, it is generally supposed that there is a faculty 


in man which makes it possible for him to distinguish 
right from wrong. In the first place, however, man 
usually applies this quality to judge only his neighbors, 
holding himself, as a rule, right, no matter what his 
action may be. "The only true source of the moral 
idea is experience/' Experience is the moral teacher. 
No truth is known by intuition neither physical truth, 
nor moral truth. 

Yet, though conscience may err, is it not universal, 
acting intuitively? To this also a negative answer must 
be given. Truth must be learned, before it can be 
known. The so-called moral sense is only an intellectual 
judgment of right and wrong. "The surest moral 
guide, therefore, is a knowledge of the relations which 
each individual sustains to his fellows, to society, and to 
the world in general. . . . The real moral education is 
intellectual education, the education of information. 5 ' 
For education so molds the mind as to render the ra- 
tional desires supreme over the impulsive; and it teaches 
what right consists in. "The supreme preventive of 
crime is, of course, general intelligence." 

"A recognition of the fundamental law of human nature 
the egoistic character of human actions furnishes the only 
real argument in favor of democracy. ... It is not rank, or 
wealth, or learning that society exists for, but happiness, to 
which all other things are only means. ... It will be a long 
time before the world will recognize the fundamental truth 
that it is not to apotheosize a few exceptional intellects, but to 
render the great proletariat comfortable, that true civilization 
should aim." 

Man's gynamic actions or those not possessing a moral 
quality not only give him dominion over the animal king- 
dom; they extend his domain over the rest of nature. 


They constitute the true progressive element of his na- 
ture. Progress lies not in the acquisition of wealth, but 
in the judicious appropriation and application of wealth. 

Both ethical actions and dynamic actions are dominated 
absolutely by the opinions that prevail in society. The 
value of human action will depend chiefly upon two 
qualities residing in human opinions: (1) their correct- 
ness; (2) the importance of their subject-matter. 

The thing to be sought for is not unanimity of opin- 
ion, but correctness of opinion. In making correct 
opinions universal, we make all opinions on the same 
subject identical; but this is a mere byproduct of the 

One great barrier to correct opinion is the undue pre- 
dominance of subjective influences. The feelings can 
not determine truth; only the intellect can grasp it. 
Instead of the wish being father to the thought, "the 
wish should never have the remotest connection with 
the thought." Cold calculation is the only reliable 
guide. Opinions based on desires are as likely to be 
false as true. The universality of belief is no evidence 
of its truth; utterly groundless beliefs have clung to the 
minds of men for centuries in the past, and perhaps ones 
equally false still so cling. The remedy for this condi- 
tion must come from an extension of scientific think- 
ing. Politics, law, business, morals, even religion must 
fall under the scrutiny of science; the logic of fact, evi- 
dence, and statistics, must control everything from the 
weight of a tadpole to the prospect for salvation. 

The first step toward correct opinion is for the mind 
to emerge from holding to groundless faiths, into hold- 
ing beliefs based upon evidence. Unfortunately, the 
exclusion of contradictory evidence is often enough to 


cause belief. The Catholic Church shrewdly recognizes 
this, and knows that one way of getting and holding 
converts is to suppress all evidence contrary to the truth 
of Catholic teachings. 

"Truth consists in the recognition of identity under 
varying external aspects." It is easy to see that 1 is 1. 
It is more difficult to see that 1 is 1 plus 3 minus 2 minus 
1. But that does not change the truth of the fact that 1 
is 1. The more dissimilar the circumstances concealing 
the identity, the greater the penetration required to de- 
tect it. The highest form of mental operation is gener- 
alization. Here the mind perceives the same quality in 
various objects, and forms them into a group. It then 
forms a larger group out of several groups possessing the 
same quality. "The discovery of truth, that is, of the 
relations among facts, constitutes the extension of 
knowledge itself." 

Errors are simply cases of mistaken identity. 

How shall truth be distinguished from error? The 
answer is simple: by verification. This may be: (1) by 
the senses, or (2) by the reason. The settlement of con- 
flicting opinions in society only requires an equal distri- 
bution of the evidence, the data upon which opinion 
rests. This is a true civilizing process, and must be arti- 
ficially fostered and conducted. A statement of fact, 
once accurately verified, may thereafter be taught as a 
known truth, without universal verification. 

The primary cause of human opinions is the experi- 
ence of the senses. Touch is a fairly reliable guide; sight 
less so; hearing most unreliable of all. Oral language 
is the source of the greatest number of our opinions, 
whether true or false. That is the way traditions come 
down and all kinds of thoughts and opinions are derived. 
The ear is the channel through which most eirors are 


introduced. The characteristics of our physical sys- 
tems are hereditary; and, to some extent, our minds as 
well. As to the subjective causes of opinions after our 
birth, human education now does little to furnish a 
proper grounding for these. Education confined to pure 
mathematics and the "dead languages" fails to give us 
important thoughts or settled convictions upon vital 

Only the proper environment is conducive to correct 
opinion. It is for this reason that most women, shel- 
tered and surrounded by the constricting trifles of home 
life, are ordinarily more flippant and superficial in their 
opinions than men, with their wider contacts. The 
breadth of opinion of a community similarly depends 
upon the broadness of its contacts. 

Ethicals laws are usually laid down as commands, 
rather than as statements of fact. A careful analysis of 
the "Ten Commandments" reveals that they confuse 
religion with ethics. The first four commandments are 
purely religious, and liable to be different in different 
religions. The fifth enjoins veneration for parents, 
which is carried to damaging extremes in China and else- 
where. Its appearance in so many authoritative moral 
codes has confused the proper relations of children and 

"Children are usually brought into the world through an 
act performed purely for the gratification of a sensual desire 
on the part of the parents, and without any thought whatever 
of the consequences. Under such circumstances the child 
could be under no possible obligation to the parents for any 
supposed sacrifice." 

If there is some sacrifice involved in the gratification of 
the parental instinct, implanted to some extent in all 


mammals, "this is more than offset by the pleasure of 
gratifying this instinct." Society would undoubtedly 
have benefited if the injunction had been reversed, and 
had called merely for parental care and recognition of 
the rights of children. While several of the remaining 
commmandments deal with moral questions, the com- 
pilation as a whole is more religious than moral. 

Essentially moral sentiments deal with the notion of 
advantage. The formula for all correct moral senti- 
ments is: The proposed action will result in advantage. 
Society has two types of minds: the egotistic, whose atti- 
tude is static; and the altruistic, which may be called 
the dynamic. The dynamic mind 

"sees in every thing a potential superiority to its present con- 
dition. It demands the elevation of the low, not by alms- 
giving, but by education and enfranchisement, until no dis- 
tinctions shall exist except those of actual native capacity to 
do and to be/' 

This altruistic class does not favor promiscuous and un- 
organized charity; instead, 

"Humanitarianism aims at the reorganization of society, so 
that all shall possess equal advantages for gaining a livelihood 
and contributing to the welfare of society." 

Morality rests ultimately upon intellectual capacity 
and general intelligence. Variations in ethical opinion 
are due to: (1) varying power to discern moral quality 
in action; (2) confusion of religion with morality; and 
(3 ) confusion of custom with morality. 

Civilization rests upon ideas relating to the universe, 
to life, to man, and to society. 


"The highest type of dynamic opinion is that respecting 
society. After dynamic opinions of the universe, of life, and 
of man have been formed, it is easy to rise to the position 
from which society can be contemplated as progressive and 
subject to a central control. . . . There exists one point at 
which ethical ideas and dynamic ideas closely approach each 
other, if they do not actually meet." 

From humanitarianism, an ethical principle, is but one 
step to meliorism, a dynamic principle, which may be 
defined as human itarianism without sentiment. Melior- 
ism is not content to alleviate present suffering, it aims 
to create conditions under which no suffering can exist. 
It is ready even to sacrifice temporary enjoyment for 
greater future enjoyment the pleasure of a few for that 
of the mass. 

now to inquire into the nature of the causal antecedents 
of thoughts themselves. Instead of saying that the char- 
acter of ideas depends upon the character of the mind, we 
must say that the value of thought depends upon the 
degree of intelligence, which consists of intellect plus 

The two common errors concerning intelligence are: 
(1) overvaluation of the intellect; and (2) overvalua- 
tion of the origin of knowledge, as compared with its 
distribution. The problem is is it more profitable to 
expend energy upon trying to improve the intellect, or 
in trying to increase knowledge? Both the relative im- 
portance of these two processes, and their relative ease 
of accomplishment, must be considered. 

The rise of great minds from the lower classes indi- 
cates that the intellect of the individuals of society pos- 
sess nearly the same original intellectual equipment, or 


capacity for intelligence. The vast differences in the 
intelligence of the two classes arises from a difference in 
the distribution of knowledge. It is clear that the intel- 
lectual capacity of society is far in advance of its knowl- 
edge. It would be waste effort to try to increase what 
is already in excess, namely, intellect. And while so- 
ciety has heroically attempted to develop the intellect by 
varied intellectual gymnastics, these efforts have largely 
failed, or been fruitless, when knowledge was not in- 
creased proportionately. It does not strengthen the 
mind to revel in empty speculation, any more than it 
strengthens the stomach to act upon nothing. Truth 
and fact are the natural food of the intellect. 

Since knowledge comes from experience, increase of 
knowledge must consist in a certain change of experi- 
ence. First of all, experiences must be rendered reliable. 
Secondly, a means of systematic verification of experi- 
ences must be always available. Lastly, emphasis should 
be laid upon general truths, rather than upon specific de- 
tails and isolated facts; and upon practical truths, rather 
than upon remote matters. That is, knowledge must be 
related to man's immediate environment. Of course, 
knowledge, as far as possible, must always be related 
back to the facts themselves, and not in a form too 
thinned by intermediary thinking. 

The knowledge actually current in society consists, 
first, of conventions and manners; second, of differences 
in social station. The expressed aim of education is not 
to furnish true knowledge, but to develop the intellect, 
which we have shown to be both a redundant and a 
comparatively difficult task. The imperfection of human 
knowledge is caused by ignorance or by error by the 
absence of ideas, or by false ideas. False ideas can come 
from a diseased organ of sense, from trickery, from un- 


usual aspects of nature like mirages, and the like. Per- 
ceptions, judgments, and conclusions may each intro- 
duce successively an added opportunity for error. 

Speaking generally, no important proposition should 
be deemed to have been satisfactorily established until it 
has been subjected to a thorough scientific analysis, and 
found to be based upon some tangible material thing, 
or upon some natural law established by inductive ex- 
periment, or upon some real fact, or physical change, 
actually known to have taken place. Knowledge de- 
rived from other persons always is suspect, due to the 
possibility of error creeping in during the process of 

The success of society as a system, and of the human 
race as inhabiting this earth, will depend upon keeping 
the intellect safely anchored to the firm ground of orig- 
inal knowledge. 

We have shown that altruism is, at base, egoism. We 
must not look to altruism, then, for men to pursue the 
welfare of others, instead of their own. 

"Whatever improvement is made in the present system must 
be brought about by the development of the means of equal 
self -protection, and not to any marked degree by the growth 
of altruism." 

Just as the direct object of every individual is the increase 
of happiness, so the highest achievement of man's devel- 
oped intellect and social consciousness is 

"a systematic, predetermined, and successful scheme for the 
organization of happiness. Such a scheme must have for its 
primary object the equal distribution of the extant knowledge 
of the world." 


The direct pursuit of happiness, even by the individual, 
is proverbially barren. No statute can enforce happi- 
ness. Although happiness comes from progress, progress 
can not be enforced by statute either. Only deliberative 
actions can produce progress; and deliberative actions 
spring from opinions, which in turn result from knowl- 
edge. The prevailing ideas of education, or the distri- 
bution of knowledge, may be classified under the five 
following heads: (1) education of experience; (2) edu- 
cation of discipline; (3) education of culture; (4) edu- 
cation of research; (5) education of information. This 
last may be defined as a system for extending to all the 
members of society such of the extant knowledge of 
the world as may be deemed most important. 

Such education concerns itself only with the contents 
of the mind, and disregards the mind's capacity. Its ob- 
ject is to fill the mind with truth; to store it in such a 
systematic way with knowledge that it may make use 
of its stores in the production of rational thought. Such 
education must be the exclusive work of society itself. 
The claim that the functions of government should not 
be increased, is an inadequate argument. Only a system 
of education exclusively entrusted to the highest social 
authority is worthy of the name. The first step in all 
social progress must be taken by society itself* It may 
be said that society, as represented by government, is 
incapable of devising and conducting a system of educa- 
tion. If this is so, it merely means that we must wait 
until society is so capable. In spite, however, of com- 
plaints against government administration, it remains 
that no function that government administers would 
have been better administered by private enterprise. 
This does not mean that government should immediately 
take control of all private enterprises which concern the 


general public. Conditions must mature gradually. In 
each case, the question must be: Is the age ripe for this 

It is covetous private enterprise that breeds and fosters 
the idea that government administration means bad 
administration. The best work of the government has 
been that of a scientific character, such as coast surveys, 
geologic surveys, the naval observatory, and the like. 
Science does not flourish under the hectic atmosphere of 
private competition. And education is the science of 
sciences. It cannot be successfully conducted on the 
competitive system. Its recipients are not the same 
individuals as those who really desire that education be 
given. The state, in other words, the organized author- 
ity of society, is particularly fitted for carrying on edu- 
cational work. That which society desires is that which 
is really needed. The object of education is social im- 
provement. An uneducated class is an expensive class, 
producing criminals, paupers, drones, and a state of so- 
cial stagnation. The educator is freest when he is a 
servant of the whole society; and only the pupil of the 
state can regard himself as the equal of any other pupil. 
Most important of all, only society ought to say what 
should be taught to its members. 

Universal education will not only prevent the en- 
croachments of the ignorant upon the intelligent; it will 
be of equal value in preventing the encroachments of the 
intelligent upon the ignorant. Some knowledge is 
harmful to society. 

"The knowledge which enables man to manufacture intoxi- 
cating beverages is unquestionably an immense damage to 
society, and strikes directly at human 


The distribution of education, rather than that of 
wealth, has been stressed, because the object has been to 
arrive at initial means. 

"It is high time for socialists to perceive that, as a rule, they 
are working at the roof instead of at the foundation of the 
structure which they desire to erect/' 

The distribution of knowledge underlies all social re- 

"So long as capital and labor are the respective symbols of 
intelligence and ignorance, the present inequality in the distri- 
bution of wealth must continue/' 

Differences in intellectual capacity between the classes 
are small, compared to the differences in knowledge and 
the means of obtaining it. Whatever inequality of ad- 
vantages may be produced by inequality of intelligence, 
it must be due to inequality of merit, and not of acci- 
dent or chance. 

"The present enormous chasm between the ignorant and the 
intelligent, caused by the unequal distribution of knowledge, is 
the worst evil under which society labors." 

It has taught the intelligent classes to cooperate and be- 
come the capitalists and employers; while the ignorant 
classes have worked independently and individually. 

"and have been compelled to turn over to the capitalists with- 
out any equivalent the greater part of the value they have 

Cooperation on the part of the capitalists is recognized 
as the only proper and successful way to do business; 


while any attempt on the part of the laboring class to co- 
operate is denounced as a sort of crime against society! 
The laborer is actually made to believe this, and the 
state frequently steps in to punish it as such. Labor 
pays heavy taxes, without, in the main, being aware of it. 

"This state of things could not exist, if every body under- 
stood just what its effect is." 

The objection that universal education would have to 
be compulsory is of no great value. All action in society 
is restrained action. Government requires yielding 
something of individual liberty in exchange for its gen- 
eral benefits. Talent can not be created; but oppor- 
tunities for its growth and exercise can. The son of 
toil and want today is denied even the opportunity for 
reflection, the basis of intellectual growth. That uni- 
versal education means the education of women as well 
as men, need scarcely be said. 

The education of information deals, not with ways of 
doing things, but with knowledge of things objects, 
phenomena, and laws. Every thing that has been made 
known by man should be made known to all men. 


SOCIOLOGY AND SCIENCE. Pure science is theoretical, 
seeking only to establish the principles, not their actual 
or possible applications. It rests on faith in the univer- 
sality of causation. Science consists not in the discovery 
of facts, but in reasoning about facts. 

The progress of science is no even, straightforward 
march. It is in the highest degree irregular and fitful, 
the work of a vast array of workers, each individual 
working more or less independently. The early stages 
in the history of a science seem chaotic, but they even- 
tually crystallize into a firmly established science. It 
is so with sociology. 

The subject-matter of sociology is human achieve- 
ment. Not what men are, but what they do; not the 
structure, but the function. Sociology is concerned with 
social activities; it is a study of action, that is, of phe- 
nomena. It is the fact of permanent human achieve- 
ment which broadly distinguishes man from the other 

"The environment transforms the animal; man transforms 
the environment. Now it is exactly this transformation of 
the environment that constitutes achievement. The animal 
achieves nothing* The organic world is passive. . . . Man, on 
the contrary, is active and assumes the initiative, molding na- 
ture to his own use.** 



There has been no important organic change in man 
during the historic period. But telescope and microscope 
multiply and refine his vision, airplanes give him wir gs, 
railroads and automobiles extend his legs, steamships 
give him fins, tools improve upon teeth and claws, and 
telegraphy and the radio gives him an instrument of 
which no animal has the rudiment. All these are the re- 
sult of man's power to transform his environment. 

"Material civilization consists in the utilization of the 
materials and forces of nature" It is becoming increas- 
ingly apparent that the spiritual part of civilization is 
at least conditioned upon material civilization. Without 
a materal base, the spiritual can not exist. It flourishes 
only in the rich soil of a material prosperity. We may 
therefore ignore it, and devote ourselves to a study of 
material civilization only. 

Matter is dynamic, and every time man has touched 
it with the wand of reason it has responded by satisfying 
a want. The products of human achievements are not 
material goods, or wealth. "Material goods, as, for ex- 
ample, food, clothing, and shelter, are, it is true, the 
ends; but the real products of achievement are means." 
involved in the idea of achievement is the idea of per- 
manence. Nothing that is not permanent can be said to 
have been achieved. Material goods are all perishable. 
Wealth, the transient, is material; achievement, the en- 
during, is immaterial. The products of achievement are 
not material things at all. They are methods, ways, 
principles, devices, arts, systems, institutions. In a 
word, they are inventions. Achievement is anything and 
everything that rises above mere imitation or repetition. 
Every such addition to civilization is a permanent gain, 
because it is imitated, repeated, perpetuated, and never 


Language itself was an achievement of stupendous 
importance. Literature has become one of the great 
achievements. Art is another. Philosophy and science 
must be ranked as achievements, vast and far-reaching 
in their consequences. The invention of tools, instru- 
ments, utensils, missiles, traps, snares and weapons 
comes under this head, crowned by an era of machine 
manufacture, artificial locomotion, and electric com- 
munication. But the tools of the mind are often over- 
looked. An arithmetical notation, or method of ex- 
pressing numbers by symbols, is a tool of the mind. The 
Arabic system of numerical notation is a typical per- 
manent human achievement. All forms of higher mathe- 
matics are among the great permanent achievements of 
the race. The industrial arts are much more obvious, 
though perhaps not more important human achieve- 
ments. All art is due to invention, and invention is a 
mental process. Thought, when applied to matter, is 
dynamic. The article produced will wear out; the ma- 
terialized idea lives on. 

In general, all human institutions are achievements. 
Institutions are never abolished; they alter, and under 
different names live on. The one condition of achieve- 
ment is social continuity. The term achievement implies 
this. It is a sociological fact that all the human races do 
not belong to one and the same series of cultural develop- 
ment. Some are so primitive that they have done noth- 
ing to contribute to the general stream of culture. 
Others, such as most of the Asiatic races, have followed 
lines of development of their own, having little in com- 
mon with European culture. Oriental civilization seems 
to have consisted chiefly in what may be called spiritual 
culture, largely ignoring material culture. As matter 
alone is dynamic, they have acquired very little social 


energy, or social efficiency. They have not called nature 
to their assistance, and consequently they are practically 
powerless when brought into competition with Western 
civilization, both in war and in industrial efficiency. In 
manufacture, they have relied upon the hand rather 
than the machine; they have not employed the two great 
agencies, steam and electricity. Unless they westernize, 
as Japan is doing, they will be permanently sidetracked. 

Sociology deals mainly with the historic races, because 
these alone exhibit social continuity. The Oriental na- 
tions, through the philosophy of quietism, the denial or 
subordination of the will to live of the Oriental nations 
are fatal to that vigorous push which is responsible for 
Western civilization. Desire is the social force; and, 
where there is no desire, no will, there is no force, no 
social energy. 

The essential characteristic of all achievement is some 
form of knowledge. Knowledge cannot be transmitted 
through heredity. It has to be acquired anew by every 
member of society. The process by which knowledge is 
handed on may be called social heredity. This is the 
same thing as social continuity. 

Achievement has come through the varied efforts of 
varying men. One of the most important factors of 
social evolution is individuality in achievement. The 
natural inequalities of men, due chiefly to varied intel- 
lectual capacities and attainments causes them to follow 
different and varied lines and produces varied results. 
Genius is a part of focalization of psychic power. If 
we expand the meaning of genius to include all that are 
called great for any reason, we arrive at a crude basis 
for estimating the proportion of geniuses to population. 
Galton estimated that, of high grade talent, there are 
in England 250 per million, or 1 to every 4,000 males of 


fifty years of age and upward. This may probably be 
accepted as approximately true of the leading countries 
of the world. The rest of mankind is not socially worth- 
less, but devotes itself mainly to statical work which pre- 
serves and perpetuates achievement. 

Since our study is of achievement, the contemptible 
side of humanity vanishes from view, and only what is 
worthy or grand is presented to the gaze. Civilization is 
merely the sum total of human achievement. And while 
achievement is exclusively the work of individual men, 
it can only take place in a social state of cooperation on 
a grand scale, and it is impossible if the series of results 
is ever allowed to be interrupted. 

As soon as men rose above the demands of the stomach 
and the loins, the brain became the center of feeling, 
and mental cravings arose, which constituted as effective 
social forces as hunger and love. Art, philosophy, litera- 
ture, industry, and science came gradually into existence, 
out of these forces, and combined in the work of human 
achievement. Under the operation of these forces, the 
chief ambition of all vigorous minds and enlightened 
spirits became that of contributing something to the 
great stream of civilization. Insofar as love of praise 
plays its part in the motives for achievement, it is to be 
welcomed as an aid to other motives in accomplishing 
the results. Yet there is a tendency to overestimate the 
share this has played. 

Thus far, only a few have contributed to this stream. 
But the percentage is increasing, and the time may come 
when all may at least aspire to the honor of laying some 
small offering on the altar of civilization. As the ages 
pass, it becomes clear to larger numbers that this is the 
true goal of life, and larger numbers seek it. Since only 
those who achieve are remembered, achievement comes 


to constitute a form of immortality. As the hope of 
personal immortality wanes under the glare of scientific 
truth, there is likely to be a still stronger tendency in 
this direction. 

In the complex sciences, the quality of exactness is 
only perceptible in their higher generalizations. Soci- 
ology can have little to do with current questions. All 
that the sociologist can do, even in applied sociology, is 
to lay down certain general principles as guides to so- 
cial and political action. 

The method in sociology is generalization. This is the 
process of grouping phenomena and using the groups as 
units. The facts that the sociologist must use are always 
at his hand. If he travel through all lands, he will find 
the same facts. Their very nearness clouds their impor- 
tance and is a bar to a full comprehension of them. Ward 
calls this "the illusion of the near/* and likens it to the 
difficulty of seeing a forest or a city while in the midst 
of it. 

Even in civilized races, there are certain things abso- 
lutely common to all. The great primary wants are 
everywhere the same and are supplied in practically the 
same way all over the world. Governments seem to dif- 
fer immensely in form, but all governments aim to at- 
tain the same end. Creeds, cults, and sects multiply and 
seem to present the utmost diversity, but there is a com- 
mon basis even of belief, and on certain occasions all may 
and sometimes do unite in a common cause. The com- 
mon passions, and the acts growing out of them, are the 
same among all men. Acts deemed contrary to estab- 
lished law and order occur with astonishing regularity, 
as statistics establish. However, history proves that the 
forces underlying crime can be drawn off into other 
channels by civilizing agencies. 


The historical perspective is the discovery of law in 
history; it is the oldest of all sociological conceptions. 
The earliest gropings after a social science consisted in a 
recognition of law in human affairs. But science deals 
with phenomena and can deal only with phenomena. 
Sociology, therefore, can become a science only when 
human events are recognized as phenomena. As opposed 
to the erroneous doctrine of free will, the scientific view 
asserts that human events are phenomena of the same 
general character as other natural phenomena, only 
more complex and difficult to study because of the subtle 
psychic causes that so largely produce them. 

The tendency at first was to find in environment the 
chief cause of social variation; some authors sought to 
expand the term climate to include all this. This was 
carried too far by some; though the great importance 
of climate and physical conditions must be recog- 

The fundamental law of everything psychic, and es- 
pecially of everything affected by the intelligence, is the 
law of parsimony. In political economy it is usually 
called the law of the greatest gain for the least effprt, 
and is the basis of scientific economics. But the law is 
much broader than this; it plays an important role in 
psychology, and is also the scientific corner-stone of 
sociology. With the law of parsimony the maximum 
stage of generalization seems to be attained, and we 
have a law as exact as any in physics or astronomy. It 
is, for example, perfectly safe to assume that under any 
and all conceivable circumstances a sentient, and espe- 
cially a rational being, will always seek the greatest gain, 
or the maximum resultant of gain. This is universally 
true of human conduct. Self-preservation has always 
been the first law of nature, and that which best assures 


this is the greatest gain. So unerring is this law, that it 
is easy to create a class of paupers or beggars by simply 
letting it be known that food or alms will be given to 
those who ask. All considerations of pride or self-respect 
will give way to the imperious law of the greatest gain 
for the least effort. This principle underlies the domes- 
tication of animals and the taming of wild beasts. As 
soon as the creature learns that it will not be molested 
and that its wants will be supplied, it submits to the will 
of man and becomes a parasite. Throughout the or- 
ganic world parasitism is only an application of the law 
of parsimony, 

It is the function of methodology, or the principles of 
procedure, in social science to classify social phenomena 
in such a manner that the groups may be brought under 
uniform laws and treated by exact methods. Sociology 
then becomes an exact science. In doing this, it will have 
passed from chaos to cosmos. Human history presents 
a chaos. The only science that can change it into a def- 
inite social universe is sociology. 

GROWTH; SOCIAL MECHANICS. The science of botany, 
lu its wide and proper sense, teaches us that the organic 
evolution of plants, and by inference, of animals as well, 
is sympodiaL This term is employed by botanists to 
designate a mode of branching by which the main trunk, 
after reaching a certain height, gives off a branch into 
which the bulk of the tree's life enters, so that the 
branch virtually becomes the trunk, and the original 
trunks alters to a branch, lessens to a twig, and may 
ultimately disappear. Everywhere and always the course 
of evolution in the plant world has been the same; the 
original trunk has at some point reached its maximum 
development and given off a branch that has carried the 
process of evolution on until it should in turn give birth 


to a new branch, which can only repeat the same his- 
tory, and so on indefinitely. Each successive branch 
possesses qualities which enable it to better resist the 
environment. When we compare the plants of today 
with the great fallen races of the past, we find that 
they are merely the persisting unspecialized types which 
escaped destruction simply because they were unspecial- 
ized. The law of the persistence of the unspecialized is 
only the counterpart of the law of the extinction of the 
specialized. Specialization is always a preparation for 
destruction. Representing adaptation to existing con- 
ditions, it becomes inadaptation as soon as these condi- 
tions change. Passing over to the field of human his- 
tory, we find a similar condition. Races and nations 
become overgrown and disappear. Peoples become over- 
specialized and fall an easy prey to the more vigorous 
surrounding peoples. Race and national degeneration 
or decadence means nothing more than the pushing out 
of the vigorous branches at the expense of the parent 

The old view of creation and the theological view 
generally is that creation is a making something out 
of nothing. The only rational idea of creation has 
always been that of putting previously existing things 
into new forms. This is the fundamental form upon 
which all art rests. Art erects ideals, and ideals are 
creations in just this sense. Nature is everywhere im- 
perfect, and art always aims to improve upon nature. 
The mind, at a certain stage of development, or with 
a certain amount of cultivation and training, becomes 
capable of forming ideals of perfection. It acquires the 
power of seeing the defects in nature and of eliminating 
them in imagination. The essential condition of all art 
is the psychic power of forming ideals. Their execution 


is certain to follow their creation. What is true of fine 
art is true of practical art also. They are both a putting 
together of raw materials so as to form new combi- 
nations. The product is something different from that 
which existed before. It is a creation. 

Similarly, nature creates. Every new chemical com- 
pound is not only a synthesis but a creation; for it 
possesses qualities different from the elements entering 
into the compound. Wherever there is combination, 
as distinguished from mixture, something new results, 
and there is creative synthesis. This is the principal 
method of nature. In a similar way, the more complex 
phenomena of the higher sciences are the creative prod- 
ucts of phenomena of a lower order. Each of the 
higher sciences is a product of the creative synthesis of 
all the sciences below it in the scale. It is not a mere 
synthesis of these lower sciences, but a new compound, 
a new creation. Sociology is a creation of all the sciences 
below it. 

Similarly, the social consciousness or collective mind is 
a product of spontaneous creative synthesis, or combina- 
tion of all the individual minds. The social mind some- 
times seems to be more primitive than the individual 
mind. This is due to the fact that, in manifestations of 
the social mind, the artificial restraints of civilized life 
are removed. Acts which would be objectionable in 
private life are shifted to the broad shoulders of the 
group. No individual holds himself responsible for 

As has been shown, nature is creative, as well as man. 
As change goes on from the nebular chaos toward uni- 
versal cosmos, from universe to life, and from life to 
mind, certain stages are reached in which a new creative 
product is brought forth so unlike anything that has 



hitherto existed, and so cardinal, as it were, as to give 
a new starting point to all future evolution. At every 
such stage the universe seems to change front and from 
then on to march in a new direction. There have been 
many such cosmical crises, after each of which there 
has been a new universe. Confining ourselves to a con- 
sideration of the earth, we practically know that in the 
course of its history there have been evolved three of the 
epoch-making properties that we are considering life, 
feeling, and thought. Placing these major products in 
the descending order of their development, we have the 
following table: 








Universal Ether 



Chemical Ele- 


Inorganic com- 




Organic com- 













Achievement . 


Psychic 1 
Social J 



Failure to understand the principle of creative synthesis 
has led to grave misconceptions. There is the old popu- 
lar error, which survives from the theological stage of 

"The universe is endowed with life and intelligence. All 
such erroneous world views rest on a basis of truth. They are 
simply crude conceptions of the truth. The soul of truth 
contained in this error is that the universe possesses the potency 
of life and mind. . . . To say that they (life and mind) exist 
in some diffused state in the universe is as false as to say that 
houses exist in a bank of clay out of which bricks may be made/' 

Life and mind are new creations, which can only be 
brought into existence through the delicate instrumen- 
talities of organic development. 

The feelings had a much earlier origin than the intel- 
lect. One of the inherent qualities of feeling is that of 
seeking an end. In common speech, appetite, or psychic 
motive, is simply desire, and desire of any kind is a true 
natural force. The collective desires of associated men 
are the social forces. 

Desire is a psychic condition resulting primarily from 
restraint from motor activity, exerted by the environ- 
ment, and where strong enough, it overcomes these 
barriers and causes activity. It is a sensation; and it 
must be regarded as an unpleasant sensation. It is in 
the nature of pain; differing from other pains in that 
it contains a suggestion of action for relief. Desire might 
almost be defined as dissatisfaction. 

Relief from any pain, if sufficiently rapid, can scarcely 
be distinguished from pleasure. It is relative pleasure. 
Supposing that the desire is fresh and healthy, its satis- 
faction is a pleasure. When we consider the great num- 


her and variety of desires to which man is subject, and 
the fact that most of them are actually satisfied sooner or 
later, we may form some idea of the volume of pleasure 
thus yielded. It constitutes the great bulk of all that 
makes existence tolerable. The relative amount of satis- 
fied and unsatisfied desire may be roughly calculated. If 
unsatisfied desires exceed, we have a social state which 
may be called a "pain economy"; if the reverse is true, 
we have a "pleasure economy." All social progress is a 
movement from a pain economy toward a pleasure 
economy, or at least, a movement toward the satisfaction 
of a greater and greater proportion of the desires of men. 

The time element is important in considering pleasure. 
This done gives reality to it, and when we see the per- 
petual stream of desires being constantly satisfied, we see 
that in a normal human life pleasurable sensations of 
various kinds practically fill all the intervals of existence. 
This constitutes human happiness, and is the only object 
worth striving for. 

Of the stronger, conscious, and often violent desires, 
those of hunger and love, of course, hold the first place. 
They are the chief mainsprings to action; it may almost 
be said that all other desires are directly or remotely 
derived from them. These forces are as strong in men as 
in animals, and in the higher types of men as in the 
lower types. In society, they become the principal 
social forces and the foundations of sociology. 

Civilized man fears the social forces, as primitive man 
feared the physical forces. Fear and not love of nature 
is the characteristic attitude of primitive peoples. 
Civilized man is still a savage in his attitude toward the 
more complex social forces. He has no more thought 
of controlling, much less utilizing, the social forces than 
the savage has of controlling or utilizing the thunder- 


bolt. Only the science of sociology, by teaching the 
true nature of human motives, desires, and passions, can 
alter this attitude. 

What is the end toward which nature is observed to 
be moving, in an ascending series of creative acts? 
Throughout the entire process we see that there is an 
increasing proportion of organic matter, as compared 
with inorganic matter. This is accompanied by a corres- 
ponding increase in the degree of structural development. 
The object of nature, in the sense of its observed ten- 
dency, may be said to be the conversion of as large an 
amount as possible of inorganic into organic and organ- 
ized matter. 

Life, originating in the sea, has as its primary differ- 
entiation from lifelessness motility or spontaneous mass- 
movement. Motility appears first in protoplasm. The 
property of aivareness, consciousness, or feeling for these 
are one in origin, is likewise primary in life. 

Feeling may be regarded as a condition to the existence 
of plastic organisms. For this purpose, too, feeling must 
involve, in however feeble a degree, a capacity for 
pleasure and pain. All psychic phenomena are neces- 
sarily conscious, and consciousness inheres in all feeling 
and is its psychic essence. 

Feeling is a means to the perpetuation and increase 
of life. But in addition to being a means to the end of 
nature, feeling is also the end of the creature. The 
creature is conscious only of itself; it is wholly uncon- 
scious of the ends it is serving. Feeling was unintended 
in the scheme of nature. Feeble and accidental as was 
the origin of feeling, it soon became of enormous im- 
portance. It was the dawn of mind in the world. 
Feeling, which was created as a means, and has remained 
the most potent of the means to nature's end, became 


the sole end of the sentient being and constitutes the 
moral world. So long as feeling and function work in 
harmony, pleasure means life, health, growth, and mul- 
tiplication, while pain points to danger, injury, waste, 
destruction, death, and race extinction. To the indi- 
vidual, pain is evil, and the introduction of pain into 
the world is the true origin of evil. Evil, therefore, was 
a means of preserving life, and all evil in the world is, 
broadly viewed, only premonition. 

On the other hand, pleasure represents the good. It 
denotes the performance of function. While to the in- 
dividual it is an end, so long as the original adaptation 
of feeling to function exists it also secures the end of 
nature. In a healthy state, the normal exercise of every 
organ or faculty results in pleasure. This satisfaction, 
or pleasure, is the foundation of the economic conception 
of utility. The standpoint of feeling is utility; the 
standpoint of function is necessity. The one is the good 
of the individual; the other is the good of the race. The 
contrast between happiness and virtue is based on this 
same distinction. 

"Virtue relates to function, and signifies a course of conduct 
advantageous to the race and the general scheme. Vice, in 
the last analysis, is conduct that in some way threatens the race, 
or that antagonizes the agencies making for the preservation 
and continuance of life." 

The pursuit of pleasure as the end of the individual, 
increasing with the constantly higher development of 
organic life, constituted a perpetual menace to the con- 
tinuance of the organisms individually, and to the success 
of the organic experiment as a whole. "This ever- 
increasing wayivardness on the part of sentient beings in 
search of pleasure must be checked in the general inter- 


est of life." There commenced that remarkable process, 
called by Darwin natural selection, by Spencer the 
survival of the fittest, and by Ward the elimination of 
the wayward. To check the growing tendency to deviate 
from the path of function, a device, called instinct, was 
adopted for the animal world in general. Instinct is 
a means of securing a greater adaptation of feeling to 

The second restraint to feeling, limited to man alone, 
might be called social instinct or group instinct, and, 
has somewhat the nature of instinct. This might be 
called religion, but it must clearly be perceived that by 
this is meant the original undifferentiated plasm out of 
which all the more important human institutions have 

Nature is not only a becoming; it is a striving. The 
step from feeling to desire is short. Desire presupposes 
memory, which is nothing but the persistent represen- 
tation of feeling, continued sense vibrations after the 
stimulus is withdrawn. The word soul, putting aside 
its religious usage, may be said to express the phenom- 
enon of animation or conscious spontaneous activity. 

When the volume of feeling is considered as essen- 
tially a striving, there are found in it all the elements of 
the will. It is the conative faculty, and therein lies 
its importance to sociology. Using desire in its widest 
possible meaning, there is a sense in which it may be 
identified with will. The will makes it possible for the 
interests of life to be served, desires to be satisfied, 
remembered pleasures to be renewed, pains experienced 
or feared to be escaped, life to be preserved and con- 
tinued, hopes, ambitions, aspirations, goals to be realized. 
This is the meaning of optimism as a principle of nature. 
There is no balancing of the gains and losses of existence. 


Existence must be preserved and nature has pointed the 
way. The will gives the command and the body obeys, 
the result being limited only by the amount of physical 
power and the amount of resistance encountered. 
Optimism is the normal attitude of all sentient beings, 
no other attitude being possible in the animal world, or 
in any type of mankind that has not reached a high 
degree of intellectual development. Natural, sponta- 
neous, or impulsive optimism is true, and is a healthy 
social influence. It means self-preservation, race contin- 
uance, and progress. But rational optimism is both 
false and shallow. Reason applied to it leads at once to 
pessimism. Out of this grow the philosophies of despair 
and Nirvana. Rational optimism and pessimism are 
products of the naked reason. The true guide is science. 
Man must learn the how and why of the means of nature. 
The only science that can teach it is social science. The 
mental and social state toward which social science points 
is meliorism. The word means the liberation of the 
will, so that it may assert itself as freely and as vigor- 
ously as it ever did under the rule of blind impulse. 

As the social forces are psychic, social mechanics has 
to do with psychic forces, from which can be derived the 
word psychics. The essential basis of psychics is the fact 
that psychic phenomena obey uniform laws. But even 
among animals there are complications that obscure this 
law. They are all the result, in animals as well as in 
man, of conflicting motives. The law of parsimony, 
already explained, when used with reference to social 
phenomena, might be rephrased: greatest pleasure for 
least pain. 

Social mechanics is that branch of the social science 
which treats of the manifestation of social energy. The 
fundamental classification of mechanics is into statics 


and dynamics, and social statics and social dynamics are 
legitimate branches of mechanics. 

theory; a principle is the manner of its application or 
operation. The universal principle, operating in every 
department of nature and at every stage in evolution, 
which is conservative, creative, and constructive, Ward 
calls synergy, a word which best expresses its twofold 
character of energy and mutuality, or the systematic and 
organic working together of the opposing forces in 

In the organic world, the primary contending forces 
are those of heredity and variation. Heredity is the 
tendency in life to continue in existence whatever has 
been brought into existence. Its result, if unimpeded, 
would be forever to increase the quantity of life, with- 
out affecting its quality. But in life, this comes into 
constant collision with the environment which checks, 
deflects, shunts and buffets heredity this way and that. 
It is the environment which causes constant deviation 
from the hereditary type; the organism must conform 
to the mold established for it by its environment. The 
process of compelling the organism to undergo this 
transformation and secure this conformity is called 

It is easy to pass from organic structures to social 
structures. Social structures are the products of social 
synergy, that is, of the interaction of different social 
forces, which in and of themselves are destructive, but 
whose combined effect, mutually checking, constraining, 
and equalizing one another, is to produce structures. 
The struggle for existence may be rephrased as the 
struggle for structure. 

Social statics is that subdivision of social mechanics, 


or that branch of sociology which deals with the social 
order. The social mechanism, taken as a whole, consti- 
tutes the social order. The most general and appropriate 
name for social structures is human institutions. Human 
institutions are all the means that have come into exis- 
tence for the control and utilization of the social energy. 
The most fundamental human institution, which Ward 
calls the group sentiment of safety, has already been dealt 
with. Out of it have emerged religion, law, morals, and 
all ceremonial, ecclesiastical, judicial, and political insti- 
tutions. Institutions may be logically classified into spon- 
taneous or natural institutions, and artificial ones. Thus 
we have religion, the natural institution, and the church, 
the artificial one. Similarly we have law, the sense of 
order in society, and its artificial relative, the legal 
system. Morality in its earliest stages was spontaneous; 
its artificial relative is the moral code. Language was a 
spontaneous institution; literature, in the sense of writ- 
ten languages, is the artificial institution that grew out 
of it. 

The first manifestation of a growing brain is excessive 
mimicry, or the special faculty of imitation. After this 
came the simplest manifestations of the inventive 
faculty. In the transition from ape to man, certain 
changes took place, such as the change to an erect posture, 
the substitution from a plant and fruit diet to one com- 
posed largely of meat, and many others. The origin 
of the family also occurred during this period. The 
primitive family naturally increased in size and grew 
into the kinship group. The word horde may be loosely 
applied to characterize this group. Man rose above this 
into the clan, and eventually into more elaborate social 

The groups began to differ in all the details of their 


institutions. Blinded by the illusion of the near, each 
group saw the rest as entirely different, and regarded 
them with utter detestation. This period of social dif- 
ferentiation, with its wild semi-animal freedom, eventu- 
ally resulted in general war between the groups. The 
genesis of society, as we see it, has been through the 
struggle of races. The first step in this is that of the 
conquest of one race by another. The various steps are: 
(1) Subjugation of one race by another; (2) Origin of 
caste; (3) Gradual mitigation of this condition, leaving 
great individual, social, and political inequality; (4) 
Substitution of law for might, and origin of the idea of 
legal right; (5) Origin of the state, under which all 
classes have both rights and duties; (6) Cementing the 
different racial elements into one people; (7) Rise and 
growth of patriotism and formation of a nation. 

One element in the formation of a people almost 
totally overlooked in the study of this process, Ward 
calls social chemistry. In a war between two savage or 
barbaric races, the women of the conquered race are 
always appropriated by the men of the conquering race. 
Aside from purposes of lust there is a certain intuitive 
sense that the mixture of blood makes for race vigor. 
There is in addition the charm of sexual novelty. The 
formation of a people, therefore, is not only a political, 
civil, and social process, but it is also largely a physio- 
logical process. 

With the growth of the nation comes the sentiment 
of patriotism. 

"It is not a very exalted sentiment, and belongs to the same 
class as that by which animals become 'wonted' to the particular 
spot where they have been raised, with no reference to its 
superiority over other places." 


The warlike method is not the only possible kind of 
social assimilation. There are other forms late derivative, 
peaceful forms, which have already begun to operate in 
advanced societies, and which may ultimately supersede 
the original, spontaneous, natural method. It may well 
be that the warlike period has nearly reached its end, 
and that an era of peaceful rivalry and friendly striving 
is about to be inaugurated. 

In all departments of nature where the statical con- 
dition is represented by structures, the dynamic condi- 
tion consists in some change in the type of such 
structures. Social progress proceeds like the swinging 
of a pendulum, which ultimately comes to rest unless 
some new force is introduced. After a change for the 
better has been introduced and its value recognized, it 
becomes sacred with time. The older an institution is, 
the more sacred and inviolate it is. The permanence of 
social structures from this cause becomes one of the chief 
obstacles to reform, when a changing environment and 
internal growth demand this. Progress is a late con- 
ception of man. According to Bagehot, the ancients 
had no conception of it. They not only did not reject 
the idea, they did not even entertain it. Oriental nations 
are largely the same now. Savages do not improve. Very 
few, even in our culture, believe that improvement is 
possible anywhere and everywhere. As Dr. Ross puts 

"Who expects change in worship or funerals, as he expects 
it in surgery? Who admits that the marriage institution or 
the court of justice is improvable as well as the dynamo? Who 
concedes the relativity of woman's sphere or private property, 
as he concedes that of the piano or the skyscraper?" 


Social degeneration or decadence is not strictly dyna- 
mic, but the result of a diseased social system. The real 
problem is, how to secure social stability, to prevent so- 
cial decadence. The three principles of social dynamics 
are: (1) difference of potential, manifested chiefly in the 
crossing of cultures; (2) innovation, which interrupts 
the monotonous repetition of social heredity; (3) cona- 
tion, or social effort, by which the social energy is applied 
to material things, resulting in achievement. All these 
principles are unconscious social agencies working for 
social progress. 

The purpose of sex, as biology has discovered, is that 
sex is a device for keeping up a difference of potential. 
In other words, a device for avoiding the simple repeti- 
tion of heredity, by introducing constant variation. 
Nature begins reproduction without sex. Next comes 
an alternation of sexless and sexual reproduction in the 
same organism. Finally the organism adopts the sexual 
method of cross-fertilization, to speed up the process 
of variation that the environment alone had achieved in 
the sexless stage. The object of sex is not reproduction, 
but variation. It is organic differentiation, higher life, 
progress, evolution. 

Difference of potential is not only a physiological and 
a physical principle, it is also a social principle. The 
cross fertilization of cultures is to sociology what the 
cross fertilization of germs is to biology. 

Progress results from the fusion of unlike elements. 
This is creative, because from it there results a third 
something which is neither the one nor the other, but 
different from both, and something new and superior 
to either. But the elements must be similar to some 
degree, so as not to be unassimilable. It must be cross 
fertilization, and not hybridization. All cultures are 


supposed to be assimilable. Still there are some races 
whose culture differs so widely from that of others that 
they seem to form an exception to this law, A race 
of low culture has so little potential energy, that it pro- 
duces no appreciable effect on the one of high culture, 
while the higher civilization immediately overwhelms, 
engulfs, and absorbs or destroys the lower. 

The dynamic principle next in importance to that of 
difference of potential is innovation. The biological 
analogy to that is the sport. This can only occur in 
sexual reproduction. Whenever the life force breaks 
over the bounds of simple heredity and goes beyond the 
process of merely repeating and multiplying the struc- 
tures that have already been created, it becomes inno- 
vation, and changes the type of structure. Social inno- 
vation proceeds upon the same principle. In the greatest 
majority of the members of society social energy is below 
the level of healthy activity, and in a very small minority 
it is far above the possibility of consuming it. Surplus 
social energy is confined to these favored groups, and 
all social innovation emanates from them. The leisure 
class has done what it has for society by what Veblen 
calls its "instinct of workmanship/* which is nothing 
more or less than the dynamic principle of innovation. 
Dynamic action is that which goes beyond mere repeti- 
tion. It discovers new ways. It is alteration, modifi- 
cation, variation. 

The dynamic principle next in importance to that of 
difference of potential is innovation. 

The third dynamic principle, conation, grows out of 
the second. All dynamic actions have three necessary 
and essential effects: (1) To satisfy desire; (2) To pre- 
serve or continue life; (3) To modify the surroundings. 
This third effect is the transforming of the environment. 


All social progress consists in this. This is not the con- 
scious and intentional effect of the action; that is merely 
the satisfaction of desire. Both the second effect which 
is the maintainance of the social order, and the third, the 
furtherance of social progress, are not only matters of 
complete indifference to the individual, but are for the 
most part undesired, unintended, and unknown by him. 
Only among the most enlightened is progress desired. 

have already classified, in our study of dynamic sociol- 
ogy, the social forces. Turning first to the preservative 
forces, those dealing with food and shelter, we note that 
the struggle for existence did not end with the emergence 
of the human species from the animal world, but has con- 
tinued down to the present day. 

All social processes that can be called economic have 
their origin in exploitation. The use of the bodies of 
the weaker races for food was of course the simplest 
form of exploitation to suggest itself. As conquest and 
subjugation took place, slavery, a new form of exploita- 
tu/n, came in. The women and warriors were enslaved, 
and the system of caste that arose converted the con- 
quered race into a virtually servile class, while this service 
and the exemptions from labor it entailed converted the 
leaders of the conquering race into a leisure class. Such 
was the origin of slavery. 

Social institutions, which come in as necessary benefits, 
in time outlive their usefulness, survive as vestiges, and 
become, due to the inertia of social progress, positive 
dangers. Slavery was an improvement upon extermina- 
tion, and still more so upon cannibalism. It was univer- 
sal throughout antiquity, and continued in Europe 
through the Middle Ages. The sentiment that led to its 
abolition is hardly older than the last two centuries, and 


was confined almost exclusively to that form of slavery 
which consisted in the importation of natives from more 
primitive countries, chiefly Africa, and enslaving them 
in civilized countries. 

Economists, socialists, statesmen, and industrial re- 
formers, however widely they differ on other matters, 
agree that all value in the economic sense is due to labor. 
Labor is not natural to man. The instinct of work- 
manship is simply the love of, or pleasure in, activities 
that immediately satisfy desires, and in which the satis- 
faction is constantly and vividly before the mind. Labor, 
in the conventional sense, possesses no such stimulus. 

The pursuit of food wherever it can be found by the 
members of the primitive horde can no more be called 
labor than can the grazing of a buffalo or the browsing 
of an antelope. Nothing in the activities of the more 
advanced American Indians approached labor, except 
the work of the women in caring for the men and the 
children, and in performing the drudgery of the camp. 
Prior to the period of social integration, man was utterly 
incapable of sustained labor, and had no conception of 

How did man learn to work? Nothing short of 
slavery could ever have accomplished this. The only 
thing a conquered race possessed that had any permanent 
or continued value was its power of serving the con- 
queror. The motive to labor is no longer the desire 
to enjoy the fruits of labor. The motive now is fear 
of the lash. The number of conquering races has always 
been relatively small, and the number of conquered races 
has been correspondingly large. This came at length 
to mean that the "ruling classes" constituted only a small 
fraction of the population of the world, while the subject 
classes made up the great bulk of its population. For 


instance, an Athenian census of 309 B.C. showed 21,000 
citizens, 10,000 foreigners, and 400,000 slaves! Practi- 
cally, therefore, all mankind has been thus kept in train- 
ing all these ages. Slavery may hence be regarded as a 
civilizing agency. 

An animal can scarcely be said to possess anything. 
Though predatory animals possess their prey after 
catching it and while devouring it, this can hardly be 
dignified with the name of property. Even among 
primitive men, the line of property can really be drawn 
at the point where artificial products come in. Even a 
club is artificial. The skin of an animal obtained by 
the aid, usually, of some skinning implement, can be 
called artificial, and may be said to "belong" to its 
"owner." But for most of the possessions of undeveloped 
races communal or group ownership is the prevalent 

With the period of conquest and subjugation of 
inferior races, property began to be regarded generally 
as 0*1 individual possession. Since property is only valu- 
able insofar as it satisfies desire, the first form of property 
at this stage consisted in slaves, that is, in something 
that could satisfy the owner, and gratify his wants. 
Beginning with women, who could gratify his lust and 
serve him, it extended to men, who could furnish him 
with luxuries and do his general bidding. Land owner- 
ship came in at this time. In earlier stages, land had at 
best been regarded vaguely as the property of the group. 
But, after the conquest of a race, the conquerors pro- 
ceeded to claim the land of the conquered, and to divide 
it up among themselves. The actual condition was much 
more varied than this indicates. Not all of the con- 
quering race are chiefs, rulers, lords, or their immediate 
proteges; some were simply citizens, obliged to maintain 


themselves by their own effort. Nor were all the mem- 
bers of the conquered race slaves. A considerable num- 
ber were in the position of the citizens just described. 
The process of mingling the blood through inter- 
marriage rapidly obliterates the race lines. 

The true economic idea of property is the possession 
of useful commodities in excess of immediate needs. It 
is based on the division of labor, which creates all things 
in excess, and secures their mutual exchange. Property 
in this sense is impossible except under the protection 
of law, and under the power of the state. 

Of all the many ways in which the principle of per- 
manent possession, or property, contributed to social 
development, the principal one was the incentive it fur- 
nished to accumulation. Without accumulation, property 
would have very little socializing influence. But when 
it becomes evident that a surplus of possessions over im- 
mediate needs allowed the holder to save it for future 
use, or barter it for things he did not possess, he will 
begin to acquire as large an amount of it as he can, and 
hold it for these and other purposes. Until this was 
possible, the division of labor was useless. The division 
of labor therefore was impossible until the state was 

But property means more than this. It was the basis 
of exchange, of trade, of commerce, and of business in 
general, as well as of industry in the more restricted 
sense. Property, in essence only a means to an end, 
became an end sought for itself. A new desire, a new 
want, was thus created, which finally developed into the 
most imperative of all the wants. Property assumed 
the character of wealth; and the pursuit of wealth, 
wholly irrespective of the power to use it, became the 
supreme passion of mankind. In spite of its dark side, 


such a passion, considered as a spur to activity and as 
an agent in transforming the environment, must be 
admitted to have been most powerful of all the motor 
forces of society. 

A large part of its final intensity came from the adop- 
tion, at a certain stage of the movement, of a symbol 
or representative of property, in the form of a circulat- 
ing medium, or money. Through this device all forms 
of property became blended and reduced to one, and the 
pursuit of wealth became converted into the pursuit of 
money, which stands for wealth. 

Production is the creation of property. This, though 
true, is not a definition, since there are forms of 
property, such as land, which are not properly produced. 

"It might naturally be supposed that under a system of 
slavery, where the majority of the population is compelled to 
labor, production would be very rapid, but this is not the case. 
However large the number of slaves, the masters find ways of 
consuming all they produce . . . slaveholding nations do not 
acquire wealth." 

The great wealth of the leading nations of the world, 
at the present time is almost wholly due to machino- 

Under the exact scientific laws of political economy, 
all surplus production should go to the ruling, owning, 
employing class. The slave of course owns nothing. But 
neither should the wage worker own anything. The 
wage, according to the Ricardian law, is fixed at the 
precise amount that enables him to live and reproduce. 
Outside of slavery, this law has not always operated 
rigidly in society. Social distribution is the socialization 
of wealth. It is a transgression of the iron Ricardian 


Consumption means the satisfaction of desire, which 
is the ultimate end of conation. Animals and inferior 
types of men literally "eat to live." An animal can 
hardly be said to take any pleasure in eating; the demand 
for nutrition is so imperative, that it wholly excludes 
all other considerations. This is largely true of primitive 

"It might almost be said that the length of time it requires 
for food to pass from the lips to the stomach is a measure of 

Instead of being eaten in its natural state all food is now 
prepared, the most important part of the preparation 
consisting in cooking it. Propositions for a time-saving 
"synthetic food" would not be a step forward, but a 
return to the savage and animal method. 

may really be regarded as only a continuation of the pre- 
ceding one, since no fact in biology is better established 
than that reproduction represents a specialized mode of 
nutrition through the renewal of the organism. Haeckel 
says, "The process of reproduction is nothing more than 
a growth of the organism beyond its individual mass." 
The arrest of nutrition hastens reproduction, while abun- 
dant nutrition checks, and may even prevent reproduc- 
tion. Individual nutrition will be continued so long as 
there is no danger of the individual being cut off; then 
reproduction imperatively steps in. 

The accepted theory to account for the existing rela- 
tions between the sexes is the androcentric or man- 
centered theory. This is the view that the male sex is 
primary, and the female secondary in the organic 
scheme; that all things center, as it were, about the male; 
and that the female, although necessary in carrying out 


the scheme, is only the means of continuing the life of 
the globe, but is otherwise an unimportant accessory, 
and incidental factor in the general result. 

Numerous facts seem to support this. Among the 
animals with which we are most familiar, the male is 
larger than the female, stronger, more varied in structure 
and organs, and more highly ornamented and adorned, 
than the female. The same is true of the human race. 
This is especially true in respect to brain development 
and its products. Not only is the inventive genius of 
woman low as compared to that of man but so also is 
her creative genius. Her speculative genius, or the 
power of generalization, is even lower. 

Ward's theory is the gynecoccntric or woman-centered 
theory. This is the view that the female sex is primary 
and the male secondary in the organic scheme; that 
originally and normally all things center, as it were, 
about the female; and that the male, although not neces- 
sary in carrying out the scheme, was developed under 
the operation of the principle of advantage, to secure 
organic progress through the crossing of strains. It ac- 
counts for the prevalence of the man-centered theory by 
man's superficial knowledge of such subjects, chiefly 
influenced by the illusion of the near, but largely, in the 
case of man, at least, by tradition, convention, and 

Nature's problem was to secure the necessary contin- 
uous nutrition, and keep the organism growing beyond 
the point where the original structure tended to break 
down. Nature developed a number of methods of repro- 
duction, constantly increasing in complexity. These 
steps, in their main outlines, are: 

(1) Division, or fission. This is the method of the 
amoeba. The adult splits into two nearly equal 


portions, each of which matures, divides, and so 
the process goes on. 

(2) Budding, or gemmation. Here the organism 
divides into two very unequal parts. A small 
portion of its substance separates itself, and later 
matures and produces a bud or buds in turn. This 
method of reproduction takes place in one-celled 
organisms, certain worms, and widely among 

'(3) Germ budding, or polysporogonia. Within a 
many-celled individual a small group of cells 
separates from the surrounding ones, gradually 
develops into an organism similar to the parent, 
and sooner or later finds its way out of the 

(4) Germ cell formation, or spore formation. In 
this a single cell, instead of a group, becomes 
detached from the interior of the organism, but 
does not further develop until it has escaped from 
the latter. It then increases by division, and 
forms a many-celled organism like its parent. 
This method is common among certain low types 
of vegetation. 

(5) Virgin reproduction, or parthenogenesis. This 
is usually classed as a backward step from a more 
advanced form. Here germ cells, similar, to all 
appearances, to eggs, are capable of developing 
into new beings without the aid of any fertilizing 
agent. The same cells may also be fertilized, and 
the sex of the resulting creature usually depends 
upon the fertilization or non-fertilization of the 
germ cells. Among bees, the unfertilized eggs 
produce only males, while the fertilized eggs pro- 
duce females. This virgin birth is not true repro- 


duction, since without fertilization the race would 
quickly end. But among plant lice the reverse 
of this is seen, the unfertilized eggs producing 
females, capable at maturity of repeating the 
process. This is a form of parthenogenesis which 
constitutes complete reproduction, though it 
might gradually fail from a decline in life energy. 

Reproduction has for its sole object the perpetuation 
of life. But the life force accomplished more than a 
purely quantitative increase in the growth of life. There 
was added to it a qualitative development. Here as 
elsewhere, however, quality is readily reducible to quan- 
tity. Quantity remained the end of nature, and quality 
served primarily as a means. 

"With the life force pushing in all conceivable directions, 
as from the center toward every point on the surface of a 
sphere, every possible process must have been tried." 

I: turned out that there was one advantageous process, 
namely, the process or principle of cross-fertilization. 
Simple reproduction, by any of the modes thus far 
described, is mere function. It simply continues the type 
unchanged. To get beyond this and secure any advan- 
tageous change in the types of structure, a dynamic 
principle must be introduced. This principle was that 
of crossing the hereditary strains through fertilization. 

"Sex constitutes a dynamic principle in biology, it arose in 
this gradual way from the advantage it afforded in securing 
the commingling of the ancestral elements of heredity, and its 
value as a device for maintaining a difference of potential is 
measured by the degree of completeness that it attains. . . . 
The true meaning of sex ... is ... that ... of securing 


variation and through variation the production of better and 
higher types of organic structure in a word, organic evo- 

W. K. Brooks has said that "the male element is the 
vehicle by which new variations are added." The general 
fact of the union of two elements in reproduction began 
with simple conjugation. This may be called compound 
reproduction, in contrast to the various forms of repro- 
duction that have been described. It may involve the 
whole organism, or only certain specialized cells. In 
both cases, there are always two cells that unite and 
coalesce to form a new being. But this conjugation does 
not primarily or necessarily imply any such difference 
in the uniting cells as is implied by the term sex. 
Biologists sometimes express this by saying that the two 
sexes were originally alike, or that primarily the sexes 
were not differentiated. 

Where, as is often the case, one of these conjugating 
cells is larger and motionless, while the other is smaller 
and active, this differentiation may properly be called 
sexual. There must be some reason in the cells them- 
selves for the act of uniting, some innate interest. The 
law of parsimony would naturally restrict this interest 
chiefly to one of the cells, and leave the other passive. 
The same causes created the other differences, including 
those of size. The result is that the male cell or sperm 
cell is usually a relatively minute cell possessing a form 
approaching that of a body of least resistance, provided 
with appendages allowing it to move, and endowed with 
an appetite which drives it actively to seek the female 
cell, and bury itself in its substance. 

There may be said to be both a sexuality of cells, and 
a sexuality of organisms. The sexual method was only 


gradually resorted to. It grew out of what has been 
called alternation of generations, in which a long series 
of sexless reproductions is followed by a resting period, 
followed by conjugation or some other form of fertil- 
ization, and then by a cycle of sexless reproduction 

A creature that reproduces without sex cannot 
properly be called either male or female. Yet to the 
popular mind a creature which actually brings forth 
offspring out of its own body is instinctively classed 
as female. The female is the fertile sex, and whatever 
is fertile is looked upon as female. It would be absurd 
to regard an organism reproducing sexlessly as a male. 
Thus biologists speak of "mother-cells" and "daughter- 
cells." In all the different forms of sexless reproduction, 
the female may in this sense be said to exist alone, and 
perform all the functions of life, including reproduction. 
In a word, life begins as female. 

The female sex, which existed from the beginning, con- 
tinues unchanged; but the male, which did not exist at 
the beginning, appears at a certain stage, and has a cer- 
tain history and development, but never becomes univer- 
sal. There are probably many more living beings without 
it than with it, even in the present life of the globe. The 
male might be called a mere afterthought of nature. At 
first and for a long period, and still throughout many 
of the lower orders of beings, the male was devoted 
exclusively to the function for which he was created, 
that is, fertilization. Among millions of humble 
creatures the male is simply and solely a fertilizer. 

The simplest type of sexuality consists in the normal 
continuance of the original female form, with the addi- 
tion of an insignificant and inconspicuous male fertilizer, 
incapable of any other function. The female or germ 


cell is always much larger than the male or sperm cell. 
In the human species, the female cell, egg, or ovum is 
about 3,000 times as large as the male cell, or sperma- 
tozoon. In the parasitic Spherularia Bombi, the female 
is a thousand or many thousand times the size of the 

Darwin was the first to call attention to the fact that, 
among the barnacles, the female has from two to seven 
little pocket husbands, produced by herself, from which 
she selects her mate or mates. Among some of the 
lower forms the males have no digestive organs what- 
ever, the visceral cavity being occupied by the testicles. 
So sexuality began. Among the spider family, the rela- 
tively gigantic female seizes and devours her tiny male 
fertilizer or mate during the process and completion of 
the mating. The same is true of the female mantis, or 
praying insect. In many species, the male insects have 
no equipment for eating, and do not sustain life beyond 
the period permitted by the nutriment stored up in the 
larval state. Male bees are drones, almost their only role 
being fertilization. In the lower vertebrates there are 
cases of female superiority. Male fishes are commonly 
smaller than female. Among the hawks, the female is 
usually the larger and finer bird. In the rat family, the 
sexes are usually of the same size. 

Among plants the grades of sexuality are as follows: 
(1) hermaphroditism, with male and female organs in 
the same flower; (2) monecism, in which flowers are 
either male or female, but both occur on the same plant; 
( 3 ) diecism, in which every plant is either wholly male 
or wholly female. Hermaphroditism seems to have been 
the common initial state of the flowering plants. Devia- 
tions from it seem to be the result of the universal 
struggle of nature to prevent self or close fertilization, 


and to secure the widest possible separation of the sexes. 

How does it occur that the male, primarily and nor- 
mally an inconspicuous insignificant afterthought of 
nature, has developed greater strength and adornment 
than the female, in certain higher forms of life? 

We found that in order to fulfill his mission the male 
must be endowed with an innate interest in performing 
his work. Nature supplied it by providing the male 
with an active desire. The sexual irregularities of human 
society are chiefly due to this fact. Society's attempts 
to regulate the relations of the sexes, necessary though 
they may be to the maintenance of the social order, 
interfere with the biologic principle of crossing strains 
and securing the maximum variation, development, and 
vigor of the stock. The violation of human laws relating 
to this class of conduct is usually in obedience to that 
higher law of nature commanding such conduct. 

In securing the necessary variation, the sacrifice of 
males was a matter of complete indifference, as much 
so as the sacrifice of germs, because the supply was inex- 
haustible. Throughout the lower orders, an excess of 
males over females is the normal condition. That a 
hundred males should die without once exercising their 
normal faculty is of less consequence than that one 
female should go unfertilized. Biologic economy con- 
sists in unlimited resources coupled with the multipli- 
cation of chances. 

The female is the guardian of hereditary qualities. 
Variation may be retrogressive, as well as progressive. 
It may be excessive, and lead to abnormalities. It requires 
regulation. The female is the balance wheel of the whole 
machinery. Nature says to the male: Fecundate! to 
the female: Discriminate! The female instinctively 
selects the mate that has the highest value for the race. 


This quality must, of course, coincide with a subjective 
feeling of preference, a coincidence which is brought 
about by organic adaptation. It represents the dawn of 
the esthetic faculty. This faculty of taste wrought a 
revolution in life as profound as the earlier one wrought 
by the faculty of thinking. 

The incipient esthetic tastes of the female caused her 
to select the qualities from among her suitors that she 
preferred, and to reject all males that did not come up 
to her standards. The qualities selected are transmitted 
to the offspring, and the new generation again selects 
and again transmits. The particular characters thus 
selected are called secondary sexual characteristics, and 
are chiefly seen in the male, the female already having the 
normal development. The first quality would be size. 
Later would come more striking and apparently abnor- 
mal facts, such as brilliant coloration, peculiar markings, 
special ornamental organs, weapons of destruction, and 
the like. Under the joint operation of the principle of 
selection and the law of parsimony, these are often not 
only confined to the male, but do not appear until the 
age of maturity, at which time alone they can serve the 
purpose for which they were selected and created, that 
is, to attract the female and lead to the continued selec- 
tion of those males in which they are best developed. 
These abnormal developments of the male Ward calls 
male efflorescence. 

Another group of qualities that determines sexual se- 
lection on the part of the female might be described as 
the moral qualities, such as courage. Even where the 
male is larger and stronger, the female still asserts her 
supremacy and exercises her prerogative of discrimina- 
tion as sternly and pitilessly as when she far surpassed 
the male in these qualities. Nor do the so-called 


"superior" males devote their new-gained strength to 
the work of protecting and feeding the female and the 
young. Those males with the greatest male efflorescence, 
such as the peacocks, male pheasants and turkeys, 
roosters, and male lions, buffaloes, stags, and sheep, do 
practically nothing for their families. The mother alone 
cares for the young, feeds them, defends them, and if 
necessary fights for them. It is the female that fights 
off enemies. The old hen, not the rooster, ruffles up 
her feathers when you approach her brood. The cock's 
business is with other hens that have no chickens to 
distract their attention from him. 

The formidable weapons of the males of many animals, 
acquired through sexual selection, are employed exclu- 
sively in fighting other males, and never in the serious 
work of fighting enemies. The whole phenomena of 
so-called male superiority bears a certain stamp of 
spuriousness and sham. It is pretentious, meretricious, 
quixotic: a sort of make-believe, play, or sport of nature. 
It is male efflorescence, and not male supremacy; for 
throughout the animal world below man, in all the 
serious and essential affairs of life, the female is still 
supreme. There is as yet no male rule. The apparent 
male superiority in some birds and mammals, instead of 
indicating arrested development in the female, indicates 
over-development in the male. 

When we come to primitive man we find that another 
of those cosmic crises to which we have called attention 
has occurred. The rise of the esthetic faculty in the 
female was one of these; the rise of the rational or 
reasoning faculty in man, a product of sexual selection, 
was another. Increased brain mass became a secondary 
sexual characteristic. In a broad general sense, the 
relations of the sexes throughout the animal kingdom 


and the early history of man might be characterized as 
a female rule. Much evidence points to this. Wide- 
spread legends of amazonism, or female warring, and 
the wealth of evidence pointing to a matriarchate or 
mother-rule period, both establish this. And this was 
inevitable, because the idea of paternity, unknown to 
the animals, was unknown to primitive man. Fertiliz- 
ation and reproduction were as completely separated in 
thought as they have been shown to be in essence. 

When it began to dawn upon primitive man that there 
was some casual connection between the couplings of 
men and women and the subsequent birth of offspring, 
the idea took root very slowly. Its ultimate acceptance 
literally reversed the whole social system. The only 
certain antecedent to the birth of the child was the 
delivery by the mother. Child birth being always 
accompanied by pain and incapacitation, the idea of ill- 
ness became indissolubly associated with it in the primi- 
tive mind. To make an adequate claim to any proprie- 
tory title to the child, the primitive male actually had to 
go through this illness, which he did by feigning such 
illness and going to bed for the prescribed period. Tylor 
characterizes it as "the world-wide custom of the 
'couvade/ " traces of which are found throughout the 

The idea of joint responsibility once firmly established, 
important results naturally followed. Paternity implied 
power over the child, which was now exercised by the 
father as well as by the mother. Equal authority with 
the mother soon led to a comparison of physical strength 
between the sexes, something never before done, since 
physical strength never came in question in the mother 
rule state. The virtue of the female animal is absolute, for 
virtue does not consist in refusal, but in selection. It is 


refusal of the unfit and of all at improper times and 
places. This definition of virtue applies to human beings, 
even the most civilized. Woman, who had had absolute 
virtue that is, power of selection up to this time, lost it. 
Now commenced the centuries of man-rule and the sub- 
jection of women, the darkest page in the history of life. 
Man's conduct to woman was not brutal; for no brute 
mistreats his female. The abuse of females by males is 
an exclusively human virtue. 

Evidence from all over the world multiplies, of living 
races where women are treated as unloved possessions. 
Certain marriage ceremonies establish this, as, for 
example, the New Zealand ritual, where the father or 
brother says, "If you are not satisfied with her, sell 
her, kill her, eat her, you are absolute master of her." 
The word family originally meant the servants or slaves. 
When man-rule came in, the women were enslaved, and 
both women and children became the chattels of the 
men. Primitive man-ruled society was formed of 
patriarchal polygamous families and unwed men, the 
weaker of whom may also have been made slaves. The 
origin of the family was simply an instrument for the 
completer enslavement of wife and children. 

Primitive marriage consisted in selling a woman to 
her owner. All early forms of marriage ignore the 
wishes of the woman entirely. In Homer's day, wife- 
purchase was the preliminary to marriage. Roman 
marriage was a contract of servitude. Slowly the group 
sentiment of safety altered this. One of the principal 
consequences of the era of war, conquest and race amal- 
gamation was the introduction of a system of marriage 
by rape. It was based on the unconscious, but universal 
sense of the advantage of crossing strains, reinforced by 
the charm of sexual novelty. The philosophy of rape 


as an ethnological phenomenon may be summed up as 

( 1 ) The women of any race will freely accept men of 
a race which they regard as higher than their own. 

(2) The women of any race will vehemently reject the 
men of a race which they regard as lower than 
their own. 

(3) The men of any race will greatly prefer the 
women of a race whom they regard as higher than 
their own. 

Both the activities of the raping male, and of the out- 
raged lynching crowd, follow obvious sociological laws. 

(4) The men of any race, in default of women of a 
higher race, will be content with women of a 
lower race. 

In most racial mixtures, the fathers almost always belong 
to the higher, and the mothers to the lower component 

Male sexual selection naturally followed upon man- 
rule. Perhaps, on the whole, it has been beneficial in 
securing increased physical perfection of the race, 
primarily of the women, but also in some degree of the 
men. The psychological effect of man-rule on our 
culture has been widespread. It accounts for the 
virulence of early Christian indictments of women; for 
the Hebrew myth of the creation of woman from man's 
rib. The legal, political, economic, educational and in- 
dustrial suppression of women which has been going on 
since an early age of the human race accounts for the 
evidence which is always given in support of the man- 
centered theory. The tendency today is toward woman's 
restoration to at least an equal rule beside man. In any 
country the treatment of women is a true measure of 
the degree of civilization. It is also a true measure of 


the intensity of the androcentric (man-centered) senti- 
ment prevailing in any country. 

The phylogenetic forces may be summed up in the 
word love. They may be classified as follows: (1) 
natural love; (2) romantic love; (3) conjugal love; 
(4) maternal love; (5) kinship love. The power of 
natural love can hardly be exaggerated. The social 
group may become extinct when through amorous 
excesses natural love is carried beyond the function (re- 
production) for which it was created. Natural love 
is pure and noble, in spite of the odium misled man has 
heaped upon it. Sexual satisfaction is a social necessity. 
It is essentially a social bond; the primary association 
is necessarily sexual. 

Romantic love was due primarily to the greater 
equality and independence of woman. It is unknown 
to savages; it was practically unknown to the classic 
cultures. It first manifested itself in the eleventh cen- 
tury of the Christian era, and was closely connected 
with the origin of chivalry under the feudal system. 
The constant and prolonged absence of the lords and 
knights left the women practically in charge of affairs 
and conferred upon them a dignity and power which 
they had never before possessed. In addition, the sepa- 
ration of most of the men for such long periods, coupled 
with the sense of honor that their knighthood and mili- 
tary career gave rise to, caused them to assume the role 
of applicants for the favor of the women. Romantic 
love marks the first step toward woman's resumption 
of her natural scepter which she had yielded to the 
greater physical force of the man at the beginning of the 
man-rule period. It involves a selection on both sides. 
It is a curious fact that there is always a touch of the 
illicit in the romances of great geniuses. One of the 


chief objects of the romantic literature of the world 
is to emphasize the fact that love is a higher law, that 
will and should prevail over the laws of men and the 
conventions of society. It is thus in harmony with 
the teachings of biology and with those of a sound 

Conjugal love, the love of a man for his wife and of 
a woman for her husband, differs entirely from romantic 
love. Though in a certain way it grows out of it, it 
retains none of the elements of romantic love, and con- 
tains other elements. Only philosophical natures can 
find it; others are swamped in a sea of boredom and 
monotony. It is also unfortunate that at times the 
objects of romantic love and conjugal love are two differ- 
ent persons. The biological imperative drives toward 
romantic love; the social imperative, toward conjugal. 
The biological imperative knows nothing of the perma- 
nency of matings, Monogamic life, to be successful, re- 
quires a certain amount of philosophy. At least, it 
requires character. The human race is growing more 
and more monogamic. Conjugal love is a social force 
even more efficient than natural or romantic love. For 
the man the stimulus of providing for the family is 
probably the most productive of all stimuli. From 
marriage until death it continues to impel activities of 
usefulness and social value. The mental conditions 
attending conjugal love are the best possible for human 
achievement, and this is the supreme test of social effi- 
ciency. Of all the love forces, conjugal love seems to 
be the one that has contributed the most to human 

Maternal love is common to all mammals, and is 
directly connected with the suckling of the young. It 
is an essentially conservative principle, but such principles 


are as useful to society as are the active and constructive 
ones. As a social force it has only operated in the main 
negatively; but in certain instances it has shown its 
immense power. 

The love of kindred is probably an exclusively human 
attribute. It grows out of the kinship bond of the 
horde, and grows to constitute the blood bond that is 
so strong in a related group. Jealousy is the opposite 
of natural, romantic, and conjugal love; race hatred, of 
kindred love. It has always been and continues to be 
the principal cause of war. This makes it one of the 
prime factors of social progress, for without it there 
could never have been that series of social phenomena, 
resulting, first, in such social structures as law, the state, 
the people, the nation, and second, in the most impor- 
tant social advances due to the cross fertilization of 

non-essential social forces, which are the chief socializing 
and civilizing impulses of mankind, are: (1) the moral 
forces; (2) the esthetic forces; (3) the intellectual 

Considered from the standpoint of its origin, morality 
is of two kinds: race morality and individual morality. 
The "instinct of race safety" arose under the influence 
of the collective or group reason, to offset the tendency 
to waywardness that individual reason had so greatly 
increased, and which instinct no longer prevented. This 
has been called the social imperative, or primal germ out 
of which were subsequently differentiated nearly all 
important human institutions religion, law, govern- 
ment, custom, etc. This form of morality operates 
entirely in the interest of function and against all con- 
flicting claims of feeling. It seems therefore to be the 


precise opposite of the currently accepted morality, 
which is based wholly on feeling. In race morality man 
simply assists nature, or becomes an integral part of the 
natural forces that make for race preservation. 

Race morality, therefore, consists essentially in cus- 
tom. If the customs of the world are studied, the 
majority of them will be found to consist in restraints 
to conduct harmful to race safety. Religion is little 
more than the addition of supernatural penalties for the 
violation of the laws of race safety. The current moral 
teaching or moral philosophy is essentially a morality of 
restraint, and is undoubtedly a survival of primitive race 
morality, although its teachers do not know this. Most 
of its precepts are negative or prohibitory. It is based 
on a deep-seated sense of the danger of over-indulging 
the passions. The effect of the action upon individuals, 
from this standpoint, has nothing to do with its right- 
ness or wrongness. The bottom of it all is the effect on 
the safety of the human race. "Duty" is simply con- 
duct favorable to race safety. Virtue is an attitude of 
life and character consistent with the preservation and 
continuance of man on earth. Vice is the reverse of 
this, and is felt as an attack upon the race. These 
sentiments are difficult to analyze, and the moral 
reformer seldom or never knows that this is what he 
feels when he preaches morality. He thinks that moral 
conduct is pleasing to God, and regards this as the real 
sanction, regardless of its effects. That the morality 
of restraint is a survival of primitive race morality is the 
only view consistent with its defense, for most of it tends 
to diminish the amount of enjoyment, instead of tending 
to increase it. It may be that today it is only a social 
vestige, and as such has a somewhat diseased character. 

Individual morality is based on altruism. Human 


altruism, insofar as it is not biological is based on sym- 
pathy, on the power of representing the psychic state of 
others to oneself. While sympathy is based on intel- 
lectual reasoning, it is a true feeling. Altruism is an 
essentially socializing force. And yet it is more than 
sympathy: for whereas sympathy is a feeling, altru- 
ism is a desire as well. Since it involves at least two 
persons, it is essentially social. It grows directly out 
of love of kindred, and by slow degrees has expanded 
until it includes love of country, and, in wider stages, 
love of mankind and of all the manifestations of the 
universe. Philanthropy is one manifestation of altru- 
ism, and a step above it is humanitarianism, which seeks 
to reorganize society so that the minimum pain and the 
maximum enjoyment may be insured. Its aim is 
meliorism. In its most advanced form it does not 
recommend measures, but devotes itself to the propaga- 
tion of ideas, and especially to the diffusion of those 
forms of knowledge which, universally shared, will 
spontaneously and automatically work all needed and all 
possible reform. 

All sexual selection, as we have seen, is based on the 
esthetic or beauty-seeking faculty. It has passed through 
three stages: the receptive, the imaginative, and the 
creative. The first of these is passive; the other two, 
active. Between the receptive and the imaginative stages 
there is another psychic faculty imitation. It is the 
natural and necessary prelude and condition to imagi- 
nation, which is probably an exclusively human attri- 
bute. The faculty of imitation is faint or wanting in 
many mammals, but appears in its fullest development 
in the apes. 

The creative stage in the development of the esthetic 
faculty is that in which ideals are embodied in visible 


form, so as to be cognizable by others besides the one 
who imagines them. It is art. With art, the esthetic 
faculty becomes a social force, and begins to exert its 
influence upon social structures. Ideals are realized, and 
become esthetic creations. Such creations are among 
the most important of human achievements. It is an 
agency of civilization, as distinguished from preserva- 
tion and perpetuation. It is a spiritual necessity. The 
esthetic sentiment is an end in itself. Its satisfaction 
becomes one of the ends of the feeling creature. The 
peculiarity of art is that it creates desire in order to 
satisfy it. 

The mind has an interest chiefly in three things: 
(1) to acquire knowledge; (2) to discover truth; (3) to 
impart information. The first of these three is probably 
the most intense, and partakes more of the nature of a 
true appetite than either of the others. It is most prom- 
inent in the young, but may continue through life. 
Many young people at a certain stage in their mental 
and physical development, usually for some years after 
the age of puberty, literally hunger for knowledge, and 
devour everything that comes their way. At first they 
consume everything, and are bent on storing their minds 
with everything they did not know before. Later on, 
they begin to discriminate, and many almost self- 
educated men have succeeded in organizing their knowl- 
edge to good advantage. But systematic guidance is 
almost essential to any real success. 

After the mind has become stored with knowledge, 
the time arrives when it begins to work upon its own 
materials. It is a strictly creative process and consists 
in sorting out the identities and discovering the rela- 
tions of stored impressions. Something new results, dif- 
ferent from any of the separate items that had been 


acquired during the receptive period. If the original 
knowledge acquired by the senses or through reading or 
listening to others be called fact, this new kind of 
knowledge may be called truth. 

The combining of truths to find new truths is as 
legitimate a process of the mind as the combining of 
facts to form truths. This process of recompounding, 
or compound aggregation, which underlies all creative 
synthesis, when it reaches the intellectual plane is called 
generalization. This constitutes the best measure of in- 
tellectual power. 

Generalization is inspiration. A new truth evolved 
from the stored facts and truths of the mind often ap- 
pears to come suddenly into view. Some of the greatest 
generalizations have seemed to burst upon the minds of 
their discoverers at a definite moment. This is the con- 
structive quality of the intellect, the most important of 
all the faculties, and probably, when comprehended in 
all its length and breadth, the one that has achieved the 
most, and contributed the largest additions to the gen- 
eral fact which is commonly understood as civilization. 

There remains to be considered the reproductive as- 
pect of the mind, that is, the interest it has in conveying 
its acquisitions and constructions to other minds. The 
developed human intellect is essentially altruistic. It 
delights in sharing its possessions with others. The de- 
sire to communicate the information stored in the mind 
takes various forms. The teacher's profession may be 
chosen, or a professional chair in some institution may 
be sought and obtained. More rarely public lecturing 
is resorted to. But when all these means fail there al- 
ways remains one other, namely, authorship. The history 
of ideas, of science, and of human achievement in gen- 
eral, shows that the greatest sacrifices have been con- 


tinually made in order to propagate thought, to dif- 
fuse knowledge, to promulgate truth, and to advance 
science. Such employments are rarely remunerative, 
and are sometimes pursued in the face of poverty and 
want. This intellectual altruism is preeminently social, 
and its results are socializing. 

No one of the three forms of interest that we have 
considered exists in the mind of the savage. He has no 
appetite for knowledge. Savages lack even curiosity or 
wonder, the lowest form of this desire. Man acquired 
these faculties through the opportunities granted to the 
leisure class. About eight centuries ago, a great levelling 
up process began among mankind, greatly accelerated 
two centuries ago, and becoming almost universal from 
1850 onward. Class distinctions have been largely broken 
down, and the qualities, physical and mental, of the 
higher types of men have been transfused throughout 
all classes. It is costing the world something to assimi- 
late such a mass, and to some there may be a lowering of 
the tone of former days; but the process on the whole has 
been beneficial. 

This may be explained by the principle uttered by 
Helvetius, that all men are intellectually equal in the 
sense that, in persons taken at random from different 
social classes the chances for talent or ability are the 
same for each class. This refers only to capacity for 
development, and not to the actual state of development 
at any given time. 

The sociological perspective is the understanding that 
there has, after all, been social evolution. A few cen- 
turies ago, the same races that have produced Laplace, 
Goethe, Newton, Darwin, Einstein, and Freud, occupy- 
ing nearly the same territory, were warlike barbarians 
living in tents and fighting with bows and arrows and 


spears. There seems small reason for questioning social 
evolution in these races. Even history illustrates the 
same thing. Scarcely any of the shocking acts, such as 
murders, massacres, etc., which blacken almost every 
page of the history of every country, would be even 
possible today in any country. The diminution in 
capital punishment is one measure of our advance. Under 
Henry the Eighth, England saw 5,000 executions a 
year. Under Elizabeth, the number was reduced to 
2,000 a year. During the reign of Victoria, the number 
fluctuated between 10 and 38 a year. The gradual 
emancipation of women, the progress of certain arts, and 
most of all the intellectual progress, may be said to de- 
cide the argument in favor of the reality of social evo- 

the intellect, resides exclusively in the objective facul- 
ties. Sensations are found to be of two classes: inten- 
sive, and indifferent. It is the indifferent sensations 
which have given birth to the entire objective and intel- 
lectual department of mind. Impressions give rise to 
sensations; these, in turn, to perceptions. Perception is 
the first objective step in the psychologic process. When 
similar percepts are united by the mind, we have a 
concept. The next step is to compare percepts and 
concepts, and detect likenesses and differences. This pro- 
cess is sometimes called judgment, while the more com- 
plex form of this mental exploration receive the name 
of ideation, the products being ideas, which are real crea- 
tions of the mind. 

The two great agents or agencies of society are the 
dynamic and the directive. As we have seen, the re- 
straint and control of social energy is the only condition 
to social evolution. All true forces are in themselves 


essentially centrifugal and destructive. There are two 
ways in which the social energy has been controlled, the 
first an unconscious process similar to organic evolution, 
the other conscious, and wholly unlike the first. It is 
this method which we will now consider. The uncon- 
scious method produced all the fundamental social struc- 
tures or human institutions; and by the operation of 
certain dynamic forces these structures were enabled to 
change and social progress was made possible. It only 
required the addition of the purposive or directive agent, 
the intellect, to make possible all the higher steps that 
have been taken in practically the same direction. 

This directive agent has been constantly on the 
scene since the dawn of manhood. It has been the dis- 
tinguishing characteristic of man, and the condition 
precedent to every event that typifies the human race, 
and makes man more than simply another animal on the 
face of the globe. At first, this agent was exclusively 
egoistic, and so completely a servant of the dynamic 
agent or human will, that it did little more than to 
heighten and strengthen man's fierce passions. Some- 
times* as in the subjection of women, its effect for a time 

\j* r 
was retrogressive. 

v Purposive phenomena may be called artificial, as dis- 
tinguished from natural in the genetic sense. For all 
art is purposive. The directive agent is a final cause. 
Genetic, or growth, phenomena are produced by efficient 
causes only. Efficient causes act only on objects near at 
hand, no matter how complicated the interaction of the 
efficient forces may be. *A final cause is always more 
or less remote from its effect or end. Neither the direc- 
tive agent nor a final cause is a force. No less than 
three things are embraced in the idea of a final cause. 
The end is seen, that is, known, by the mind. Some 


natural property or force is also known to exist, and 
its action upon the material thing to be moved is under- 
stood. This force or property is a means to the end, 
and it is only necessary to adjust the body to be moved, 
in such a manner that the known natural force will 
impel it to the perceived end. This adjustment is usually 
accomplished by the exercise of muscular force of the 
agent, in obedience to his will. Both the natural force 
and the muscular force are efficient causes, and all the 
motion is the result of these two forces. The final cause 
therefore consists essentially in the knowledge of the 
purposive agent of the nature of the natural force and 
the relations existing between the subject, the object, 
the force, and the end. The three steps are: knowledge, 
adjustment, natural force. 

In efficient causes, the effect is always exactly equal to 
the cause. In final causes, the effect is usually wholly 
out of proportion to the cause, if by cause we here mean 
the personal effort put forth. A final cause may repre- 
sent any amount of natural force that the intellect of 
man can reduce to his service. It is practically un- 
limited. When we consider the gigantic strides in this 
direction taken in the last two centuries, we dare not 
attempt to peer into the future. We may truly say, 
surveying this progress, that thought is the sum of all 

The method of mind is the precise opposite of the 
method of nature. The method of nature, with un- 
limited resources, is to produce an enormous over- 
supply, and trust the environment to select the best. This 
is in the highest degree wasteful. It is a method of trial 
and error. Nature aims only at success, and success is 
secured through the infinite multiplication of chances.. 
Lifeless and organic phenomena obey the same unecp- 


nomical laws, and thus are thrust into existence all the 
strange and hideous denizens of the earth vermin of 
all horrid shapes, toads, lizards, monsters of sea and land. 
All these are only a few "favored" forms wrought at 
enormous expense and involving infinite sacrifice of life 
and energy. The economy of nature is simply an ab- 
sence of all economy. 

The only true economy is purposive. Only mind 
knows how to economize. Mind sees the end, and pur- 
sues it. Not directly or in a straight line, for indirection 
is of its essence. But it pursues it effectively. Purposive 
phenomena are far more rapid than growth phenom- 
ena. Compared with the life history of the horse's 
hoof, how brief is the life history of the factory, the 
steamship, the railroad, the telegraph, the telephone, the 
automobile, the airplane, the radio! 

Knowledge in the mind does not constitute feeling; 
but it gives rise to feelings, which may be most power- 
ful. A telegram announcing the death of a child stirs 
a father's soul to its very depths, and he acts instantly 
according to the circumstances. Such feelings, in- 
spired by knowledge, are idea forces. 

The intellect is primarily an advantageous faculty, 
and came into existence through the action of natural 
selection, or the survival of the fittest in the struggle for 
existence. It is hence of biologic origin. This will be 
treated at length in the third section of this study. 

Most students of the mind have confined themselves 
to the non-advantageous faculties of the human intel- 
lect. That is, these faculties do not contribute to better 
nutrition, to physical protection, or to more certain prop- 
agation. They may be summed up under the compre- 
hensive term genius. The distinguishing characteristic 
of genius is that it does not have preservation or repro- 


duction for its end, but is, we may say, an end in itself. 
Its motive is a socializing force. It may be a moral 
force, and it is to some extent an esthetic force, but it 
is chiefly an intellectual force. When we reach the stage 
of genius, the brain has become an emotional center; and 
we have already discovered that the appetites, wants, 
and feelings of the intellect constitute motives of great 

Invention in its later stages becomes subjective, and 
takes the form of genius. The pursuit of utilities, as 
such, that is, as a means of obtaining personal ends, soon 
began to constitute an independent stimulus, and the 
search for utilities became a pleasurable occupation. 
This caused the inventor to lose sight, temporarily at 
least, of the practical end, and to yield wholly to the 
spur of anticipated success residing in his own mind. 
When invention reached this stage it became genius, and 
henceforward it existed for its own sake. It becomes a 
passion, and is often pursued at a sacrifice of other pleas- 
ures and satisfactions. This accounts for the fact that 
many of our greatest inventors have been in poverty- 
stricken circumstances, and almost forgetful of their 
personal necessities. 

It is perhaps more difficult to account for creative than 
for inventive genius. And yet, it was a natural out- 
growth of the esthetic faculty. It came from a want, 
and a somewhat imperative one, even among primitive 
men. The religious sentiment, so epidemic in early eras, 
was favorable to the development of creative art. "Ec- 
clesiastical institutions" gave rise to a demand for tem- 
ples, decorations, and a variety of art products, which 
gave an egotistic bent to creative work. This would 
give a utility to creative products, and they would be 
in the same position as early inventive products. Art at 


length grew to be better recognized as a passion than 
invention. It became a consuming passion in the end. 

The philosophic genius is the faculty that has mainly 
engaged the attention of students of the mind. Ob- 
viously, the capacity to form ideal conceptions of space 
and time, of eternity and infinity, and for abstract no- 
tions of form and number which render geometry and 
arithmetic possible, cannot be accounted for on the prin- 
ciple of natural selection. Yet the purposive faculty, out 
of which these grew, can clearly be accounted for on 
the principle of natural selection. The non-advantageous 
faculties carhe chiefly from two of the three great 
dynamic principles: cross-fertilization and innovation. 
But primarily they are the result of continuous brain 
development, due to these and other causes. The de- 
veloped brain, interested in its own operations, proceeds 
to invent, create, and cogitate everything that it has the 
capacity for. 

An intellectual quality, talent, or faculty, a psychic 
structure based upon an organic structure of the brain, 
must be advantageous at the start, and common to all 
the members of a species, to insure its original creation. 
Thereafter, any and all of these faculties may vary in 
any given direction, and grow into wholly non-advan- 
tageous faculties, provided they do not become posi- 
tively disadvantageous, in the sense of endangering the 
existence of the race. There are analogies among or- 
ganic structures, the more extravagant secondary sexual 
characteristics, such as the antlers of an elk, being among 
the best examples. 

Certain social structures illustrate the same thing. Re- 
ligion must have been primarily an advantageous social 
structure, otherwise it could not have come into exis- 


"Probably most religions now are somewhat disadvantageous. 
Certainly the adherents of any religion would admit this of all 
the rest, and even exaggerate their disadvantageousness." 

Philosophy began as speculation. Facts or supposed 
facts of course lay at its base. Perceptions, conceptions, 
and ideas were in the minds of those early speculators, 
but they were little controlled, and imagination was 
scarcely differentiated from observation. The body of 
primitive speculation was confined to two great fields 
the phenomena of the mind and the phenomena of the 
world. The first was sterile, until cross-fertilized by 
the germs of objective science, and metaphysics was con- 
verted into psychology. The second study was fruitful 
from the start, and all that we know of the universe, 
including mind, has resulted from it. 

Ward did not make a fourth division of the non- 
advantageous faculties, and did not call the application 
of thought to things scientific genius, because this is, in 
its nature, not different from philosophic genius. The 
only difference is in the increased data, involving a more 
exact and systematic method. Science proper consists 
in reasoning about facts, not in the accumulation of 
facts; but the ability to reason soundly depends upon 
the possession of the facts about which to reason. Both 
reasoning and facts are essential to scientific truth. 

Equipped with the intellect as a guide to the will, that 
"favored race" of beings called man set out on a ca- 
reer for the conquest of nature. Throughout his whole 
animal existence, like the rest of the animal world, this 
being had always been the slave of nature. His was a 
struggle for existence like the rest; but he proved him- 
self the fittest to survive, and he survived. By a series 
of accidents, some of which have been recorded in this 


study, the development of the brain found in him its 
highest expression. He early saw the advantage of as- 
sociation, and secured the added benefit of the law of the 
survival of the social. 

Invention is strictly human. The making of tools or 
of means of defense against wild animals was without 
doubt the first step taken by man in the domain of in- 
tellect. The discovery of fire came later. Sticks and 
stones were his first tools, and were gradually, with in- 
finite slowness, shaped into diggers, clubs, spears, boom- 
erangs, throwing-sticks, shields, paddles. After fire came 
pottery, a slow improvement of primitive uses of clay 
in cooking. Glass grew naturally from pottery. The 
plow grew out of the digger; the primitive plow lacked 
a mold-board, and did not throw a furrow to one side, 
but merely scratched the ground. There followed metal 
working, cloth-making, the making of wines, oils, and 
intoxicants. An alphabet and the art of writing on 
papyrus or something more manageable than stone was 
one of the great steps in civilization. Time was kept 
at first by the sun-dial. The ancients knew steam, but 
did not know how to harness it. 

The stream of human thought, intelligence and in- 
ventive power moved westward from southern Asia to 
Chaldea, Egypt, Asia Minor, Greece, Italy, and then 
slowly from the Mediterranean shore northward to 
western and northern Europe. There were fifteen hun- 
dred years of apparent intellectual stagnation, caused by 
the necessity for the assimilation of the Teutonic bar- 
barians by the Mediterranean cultures. The middle of 
the fifteenth century marks the beginning of the modern 
era. The invention and practically application of the 
art of printing was the turning point, but a long train 
of other, often apparently independent inventions and 


discoveries, quickly followed. There followed oil paint- 
ing, engraving on copper, and, later, the telescope, 
microscope, thermometer, and camera obscura. Another 
century improved clocks and watches by adding the 
spring. A bolting machine for flour was invented. 
Forks were invented. And all this in the sixteenth cen- 

The steam engine, in the modern sense, was a child of 
the seventeenth century. The same era gave birth to 
the air-pump, the barometer, and Pascal's invention of 
the wheelbarrow. The next century added the loom and 
the spinning jenny, as well as the real beginning of the 
modern factory. The nineteenth century gave us the 
telegraph, the steamship, the railway, the applications of 
electricity, illuminating gas, matches, India rubber, gun- 
cotton, the sewing machine, the ocean cable, the bicycle, 
the automobile, the X-ray, the radio. And the twentieth 
century is moving ahead even more swiftly. 

Invention and discovery are reciprocal. Each leads 
to the other. The roots of the sciences, especially of the 
sciences dealing with lifeless matter astronomy, chem- 
istry, and physics go far back into the classical cul- 
tures, and beyond them to Chaldean, Chinese, and 
Egyptian times. India gave us the decimal system of 
notation, the so-called Arabic numerals. The thinkers 
of Greece discovered scientific truths so comprehensive, 
that about all we of the past five centuries have accom- 
plished has been to prove and "establish" the truths 
that they taught. They taught the atomic theory and 
the heliocentric system; they were aware of the conserva- 
tions of energy, the nature of electricity, and the fact 
of a universal struggle for existence; they discovered the 
power of steam, the whole science of geometry, the law 
of specific gravity, and the principle of the lever and 



fulcrum; they laid the foundations of natural history, 
and of the fundamental principles of psychology and so- 
ciology. We must omit all mention of the magnificent 
Greek productions in the field of the arts, for here we 
are dealing with man's conquest of nature. 

The first fourteen centuries of the Christian era offer 
little in the way of scientific discovery. The middle 
ages awoke with Copernicus's revival of the pagan theory 
of the solar system. The modern science of anatomy 
was founded by Vesalius, in a work published in 1543. 
Before the end of the century, Gilbert's investigations 
into the true properties of magnets had been concluded. 
The laws of the pendulum, the science of analytical 
geometry, the circulation of the blood, the ether, all 
these developed about this time. The seventeenth cen- 
tury gave us the conception of the ether and the law of 
gravitation. The eighteenth century gave us the ex- 
planation of the true nature of heat, electricity and 
light, and their properties. Other great discoveries of 
this century were the nebular hypothesis, the discovery 
of oxygen, nitrogen, sodium potassium, iodine, and the 
true nature of combustion. There was also good progress 
in biology. The nineteenth century saw scientific prog- 
ress that exceeded all that had gone before. The most 
important of all the generalizations of the human intel- 
lect, the law of evolution, was a fruit of this century. 

The classification of the functions of society into 
regulative and operative is fundamental. The state is 
a regulative system worked out by society by a perfectly 
natural, evolutionary process. Its basis is law. Wealth 
is only possible under the state. While the state itself 
achieves little, it is the condition to nearly all achieve- 
ment. The state was the most important step taken by 
in the direction of controlling the social forces. 


It has been said that the state achieves little. It 
would have been more correct to say that society, in its 
collective capacity, does not take a direct part in the 
operations that have been listed under the head of 
achievement. The mastery of physical forces, invention 
and scientific discovery, have been primarily the work 
of the individual. The achievement of the state has 
been a certain conquest of man, the gaining of a greater 
and greater mastery of the social forces, primarily of 
their antisocial effects, all in the interest of social safety. 

On the whole, society has succeeded in its task of re- 
straining man's natural turbulence. The domain pf 
purely social action was at first very limited. Even the 
punishment of crime against the individuals was not a 
duty of the state until after the fall of the feudal system. 
The only crimes considered by the state were crimes 
against the state. Revenues were once extensively farmed 
out to private persons, and the finances of nations were 
largely in the hands of individual financiers. Represen- 
tative government has taught the people how to gain 
collectively the power which they could never again 
individually possess. Collective lawmaking, collective 
execution of the laws, collective control of foreign rela- 
tionships, governmental control of most railways, as well 
as occasional appearances of government ownership or 
management of steamships, bakeries, lodging houses, 
trolley car lines, waterworks, gasworks, and many other 
forms of capital, slowly came in. No community which 
has ever once municipalized any public service has ever 
retraced its step, or reversed its action. 

Now and then the steady march of collectivism re- 
ceives a temporary check. But this does not disturb, it 
only steadies, the general trend in that direction. New 
Zealand and Australia have taken the longest strides in 


this direction; America is slowly falling into line. This 
growth of collectivism has meant a gradual conquest of 
the forces of individualism, which were in supreme con- 
trol when the movement started. A careful study of 
this movement indicates that man is as easily managed 
by intelligence as nature has been shown to be. While 
mandatory, prohibitory, and punishing legislation has 
been found to be unsuccessful, attractive legislation is in- 
creasingly growing in favor, in enlightened states. 

One by one the great achievements of the individual 
intellect become socialized, through collective action. It 
is gradually being recognized that society at large, and 
all mankind from the highest to the lowest, are entitled 
to profit by the brilliant achievements of the elite of 

Human achievement consists essentially in knowledge. 
The products perish, but the knowledge insures their un- 
limited reproduction and multiplication. Complete so- 
cial appropriation of this knowledge will never take 
place, until the mass of mankind shall possess not merely 
the benefits of achievement, but the knowledge itself. 
Only a limited few have had this, so far. But the ten- 
dency to spread this knowledge among all mankind is 
constantly growing. All the leading countries of the 
world are now extending it to the masses. The action of 
society in inaugurating and carrying on a great educa- 
tional system, however defective we may consider that 
system to be, is undoubtedly the most promising form 
yet taken by collective achievement. It means much 
even now. But, for the future, it means nothing less 
than the complete social appropriation of the individual 
achievement which has civilized the world. It is the 
crowning act in the long list of acts that constitute the 
socialization of achievement. 


great types of philosophy, those which seek to answer 
where men are, and those dealing with what men are. The 
former deal with the nature of the world and the uni- 
verse, the latter with the mind of man. The study of 
the universe may properly be called cosmology; that of 
the mind, psychology. During the last hundred years, 
due to the ushering in of the scientific epoch, both of 
these great branches of philosophy have undergone an 
almost complete revolution. This has been due to vastly 
increased data; to the inductive or scientific method of 
mquiry; and to a change in the spirit of inquiry, which 
has now become a search for objective truth, but which 
formerly centered in a search for faults in the reasoning. 
The result of this revolution, in the case of psychologic 
philosophy has been twofold. The normal advance has 
culminated in the science of psychology, and also in the 
true science of sociology. 

Early philosophers concerned themselves only with a 
study of mind, completely neglecting all investigation 
of their powers of tasting, smelling, feeling, hearing, and 
seeing the objects around them. It is only in modern 
times that the dual nature of mind, that is, its division 
into sense and intellect, began to be perceived. The 
connection between these two has not yet been carefully 



studied. It will be the purpose of these pages to show 
the natural relations between them, and the connection 
of the intellect with the will on one side and the soul on 
the other. 

When the tip of the finger is placed against any ma- 
terial object, two results follow. There is produced a 
sensation, depending upon the nature of the object; and 
there is conveyed to the mind a notion of its nature. 
The sensation and the notion are not one and the same, 
but are two distinct things, capable of being contem- 
plated separately. If the object be neither too hot nor 
too cold, and does not penetrate the tissues nor derange 
the part of the finger in contact with it, by any caustic 
property, the sensation will be what may be called in- 
different, that is, it will be neither painful nor pleasur- 
able. It is possible to fix the mind on this sensation, 
while partially or wholly excluding the notion it conveys 
to the mind. On the other hand, in such a case one 
may, and usually does, ignore the sensation, and fix the 
attention more or less exclusively upon the notion pro- 
duced by the object. It is this notion which affords the 
mind a knowledge of the nature of the object. The 
process by which the notion or knowledge is produced 
is called perception. 

The sensation resides wholly in the organism, or sub- 
ject experimenting, and may be called subjective. The 
perception relates exclusively to the object whose nature 
it reveals, and may be called objective. This first step in 
the psychologic process furnishes, therefore, the basis or 
primary element of both the subjective and the objective 
branches of mind study. 

The sense of feeling was chosen to illustrate this dis- 
tinction, because it displays both parts of the process to 
better advantage than any of the other four senses. The 


sense of taste, for instance, gives rise to sensations of 
pleasure or of pain, sending the nutriment pleasurably 
toward the stomach, or rejecting nauseous substances; 
but it gives no more idea of the nature of an insoluble 
substance than one would obtain by placing it upon the 
back of one's hand. The sense of smell is also largely 
subjective. The location of the olfactory nerve with- 
draws it from contact with ordinary substances; liquids 
or solids introduced against it usually give a sensation of 
pain, by threatening to injure the delicate tissues of the 
nerves. While there is some uncertainty as to what pro- 
duces odor, it has recently been suggested that only cer- 
tain gases are capable of affecting the olfactory nerve, 
to produce the sensation of an odor. 

Hearing is a long way toward the objective. Unless 
the vibrations of a sound are so violent as to produce 
pain, there is practically no sensation. On the other 
hand, a very definite idea of the nature of the object 
emitting the sound is produced: not of its form or 
texture, but of its sound-producing properties. Because 
or this objective capability, the sense of hearing is one 
of the great avenues of conveying knowledge to the 
mind. At the extreme objective end of the process we 
find sight. Unless the light is so brilliant as to mechani- 
cally injure the optic nerve, it is impossible to detect any 
sensation in the act of seeing. But, of all the senses, this 
one gives the most complete notion of the object. 

With regard to the material vehicle of the five senses, 
we may say that taste requires a liquid; smell, a gas; 
touch, a solid; hearing, a gas (the atmosphere), and 
sight an ethereal medium (the universal ether). The 
order, in passing from the subjective to the objective 
pole, is: (1) taste; (2) smell; (3) touch; (4) hearing; 


Subjective psychology deals exclusively with sensa- 
tions and their various combinations. It takes no ac- 
count of intellectual processes. The simplest sensations 
are those which are neither painful nor pleasurable, but 
indifferent. Subjective psychology has little to do with 
them. Its chief object is to explain the nature and im- 
portance of the two other classes of sensations, painful 
and pleasurable, which may be grouped together, in con- 
trast to indifferent ones, called intensive sensations. 

The only senses that afford intensive sensations di- 
rectly are taste, smell, and touch. Objects brought into 
contact with the nerves of any of these senses may give 
pain or pleasure sensations. Where sounds too loud or 
light too bright come in contact with our ear or eye, it 
is not hearing or sight, but feeling that is involved. 
Feeling is preeminently the pain sense, few objects being 
capable of producing pleasure by direct contact. Taste 
and smell, on the contrary, are more especially pleasure 
senses, although there are many bitter, sour and nauseous 
objects and offensive odors. 

The pains and pleasures yielded by sounds and colors 
are not direct and original, but indirect and derivative. 
The pain caused by burning the hand is felt in the part 
affected. The pleasure afforded by food or fragrance is 
felt in the organs of taste and smell themselves. But the 
pleasing effect of a tune is not felt in the ear; it is ex- 
perienced, as is usually said, by the mind. The enjoy- 
ment of a landscape is not localized in the eye; it is a 
diffused sense of the whole psychic organism. These 
latter two classes of feelings are properly called emo- 

Emotions may be called secondary sensations, that is, 
sensations not produced directly by the object through 
contact with the nerve, but reflected from the brain 


along special nerve fibers to certain specialized emo- 
tional nerve ganglia within the organism. The emo- 
tional sense would stand first among the subjective 
senses, since it yields no perception whatever. Even taste 
and smell yield some knowledge of the objects; the 
emotional sense furnishes the mind with no knowledge 
whatever of the object producing the emotion. It fur- 
nishes sensation only. 

Sensations may be roughly classed as external and 
internal. The nerves of taste, smell, hearing, and sight 
are internal, but not so much so that the medium 
through which they are reached does not actually pene- 
trate to them from without and act directly upon them. 
The emotions have no medium except the nerve cur- 
rents themselves, and they are essentially internal. 

Objective psychology in its properly limited sense 
deals exclusively with perceptions and their elaboration 
by the brain into conceptions and judgments. The for- 
mula by which a judgment is expressed is called a propo- 
sition; if it be correct, it is called a truth. Above these 
ure ideas and generalizations, a process which may be 
carried on until all things are embraced in the ultimate 
generalization. Reason is the faculty by which the mind 
reaches conclusions. Memory is the general condition 
to the whole process, and consists in the fact that percep- 
tions, conceptions, judgments, and ideas are more or less 
permanently registered, and may be called upon as occa- 
sion demands. Imagination cannot transcend experience. 
Its materials must have been previously stored up for 
use. Most of the old writers on psychology stopped at 
this point in their study of the intellectual process, and 
omitted an element which is historically the primary in- 
tellectual process, and is at the same time practically the 
most important of all intellectual processes. This may 


be called intuition. The power of carrying on this men- 
tal activity may be called the intuitive faculty. Other 
writers on the mind identified this with sagacity or 
cunning, which, whether displayed by animals or men, 
they considered to be a low element. 

Impressions strong enough to cause intensive sensa- 
tions are carried to the brain along the afferent nerves, 
and are reflected back, along a different set of nerves 
the efferent nerves to the muscles connected with the 
organ impressed. The function of these latter nerves 
is to cause the appropriate muscles to contract, and the 
organ to move. Hence they are called motor nerves. 
The reason why the motor nerves act only in response to 
the intensive sensations is clear. The movements pro- 
duced are not irregular and aimless, but have a definite 
character and purpose. They always take place away 
from a pain-producing object, and toward a pleasure- 
producing object. Even such processes as the circula- 
tion of the blood, digestion, and breathing, which are 
not referred back to the brain or general organ of con- 
sciousness, are faintly connected with this organ, and 
faintly register their activity on it: for it can be nothing 
else than this that constitutes the enjoyment of health. 

There is a different class of actions, arising out of the 
chain from perception to thought, the organs of which 
have nerves connecting them with the muscular system. 
Along these nerves occurs a motor discharge, producing 
muscular activities which are the legitimate ends for 
which the ideas were formed. The resultant actions are 
those commonly understood as rational actions. All 
others are the simple animal impulses, with which the 
reason has nothing to do. These rational actions origi- 
nate in the intellect. They are less vivid and strong, but 
are more persistent and enduring. They result from 


what is called conviction, and where judgments and con- 
clusions are objectively true, they are successful in their 
results. If error is involved, they fail; and history and 
experience prove that error is nearly or quite as com- 
mon as truth. 

In thus treating of the striving faculty, Ward omits 
the use of the term will. Will is merely a popular phras- 
ing of the psychological fact that this, that, or the other 
impulse actually did prevail, because it was stronger than 
all the others. 

Neither pleasure nor pain exists essentially or in the 
nature of things. Pleasure and pain are the conditions 
to the existence of plastic organisms. Feeling is the mode 
of protection provided by nature for plastic organisms, 
such as most animals; and feeling must be supposed to 
consist of pleasure and pain. Without the sense of pain, 
the hostile environment would close in immediately upon 
the sentient organism, and destroy it. Pain is in and of 
itself evil the only evil. Yet it is the sole guaranty of 
life itself, and hence science must hold it good. Plastic 
organisms are perpetually consuming their tissue 
through growth and in the vital process of existence. 
This consumption must be incessantly supplied from 
without. The replenishing of wasted tissue is nutrition, 
and to insure nutrition some inducement must be pro- 
vided for the performance of the acts that will accom- 
plish it. No other motive than that of agreeable sensa- 
tion can be conceived. Finally, in most of the higher 
organisms, the procreative pleasure has been added, to 
prevent such races of beings from perishing from lack 
of renewal. 

Pleasure and pain are not opposites; they are practi- 
cally independent of each other. The opposite to pleas- 
ure is the absence of pleasure; the opposite to pain is 


relief from pain. Nor is pleasure positive, and pain 
negative. Both are positive, and very unlike. The 
principle that pain leads to death and pleasure to life, 
that the pleasurable is the good and the painful the bad, 
that the duty of life is to seek pleasure and avoid pain, 
rests upon a fundamental truth of organic development, 
and reflects the simplest dictates of common sense. 

The word soul, like the word will, is popular, and not 
scientific. Ward prefers to retain the word, and defines 
it as the collective feelings of organic beings and their 
resultant efforts. The birth of the soul was the dawn of 
the psychic faculty. It is the power behind the throne 
of reason, in the evolution of man. 

Where sensations are at all remote, the resultant move- 
ment may be in whole or in part prevented. If food or 
drink be seen at a distance, time is required to reach it, 
and should obstacles intervene, the movement may be 
brought to rest* If danger is reported by sound, and 
flight impeded by confinement or chains, motion does 
not result. Nevertheless the sensation thus produced 
exists and the state of consciousness endures for a longer 
or shorter period. This state of consciousness is a desire 
either to approach or to retreat. 

Desire presupposes 'memory. A represented sensation 
is a remembered sensation, and desires are the recorded 
and remembered pains and pleasures of sentient beings. 
The primary conception of desire is that of appetite. 
Strongest of all are the desires that lead to self -suste- 
nance, that is, hunger and thirst. Add to these the other 
indispensable needs of the body, such as, in cold climates, 
clothing and shelter, and we have what can be grouped 
under the general term want. Next in degree of essen- 
tialness is the sexual appetite, which becomes expanded 
into a lofty sentiment and may be characterized by the 


general term love. To these must be added the social, 
esthetic, moral, and intellectual cravings, the yearning 
after the beautiful, the good, and the true. 

All emotions represent a striving, a universal struggle 
for the satisfaction of desire. All the effort put forth in 
obedience to desires is in the direction of satisfying them. 
To satisfy a desire is to end it. The unpleasant nature 
of desires is proved by the fact that we always seek to 
end them. Psychic energy has enormously increased, 
since evolution began. There was a time when none 
existed. It has developed or been evolved with organic 
nature, and has increased at an equal pace with the in- 
crease of mind and the development of brain. The soul 
of man has come from the soul of the atom, after passing 
through the great distilling vessel of organic life. 

All desire is pain; but all pain is not desire, except in 
the sense of an inclination to escape it. Ordinary pains 
are not the desires themselves, but causes of action. They 
are more or less external and direct, while desires are in- 
ternal, and emotional. Pain is more simple than pleas- 
ure. It consists simply in a disagreeable sensation, giving 
rise to instantaneous effort to move from the object pro- 
ducing it. This allows no time for the occurrence of a 
desire, properly speaking. This is the nature of all direct 
pains, that is, pains other than desires. 

Simple pleasures are practically restricted to the senses 
of taste and smell. In these, as in pains of the same olass, 
no desire intervenes between the contact and the pleas- 
ure. It should be added that agreeable sounds and ob- 
jects agreeable to the eye usually give rise to the cor- 
responding pleasures directly, without the intervention 
of anything that can be properly called a desire. Group- 
ing all these under the head of presentative or simple 
pleasures, there remains the great class of representative 


pleasures, forming by far the larger part of all enjoy- 
ments. Such pleasures consist simply in the satisfaction 
of desire. When the desire is satisfied and ended, what 
follows? Restoration of equilibrium. Not only is the 
pain of desire gone, but the pleasure is also gone. 

The "will of Schopenhauer is nothing more nor less 
than the conception which we have defined already and 
called desire. It has nothing to do with the reasoning 
faculty, and that is what Schopenhauer means when he 
calls it unconscious. 

Pessimism is the denial of pleasure. In the normal 
case, the satisfaction of a desire terminates it. The 
question arises: Does anything intervene between the 
desire and its satisfaction? Is the painful state called 
desire continuous up to the time when it ceases altogether 
and the mind reverts to the antecedent state? A nega- 
tive answer to this question would deny the existence of 
pleasure, and make pessimism the only true philosophy. 

The answer to pessimism comes from the experimental 
demonstration that all psychic phenomena consume 
time. Take, for example, a direct sensation such as that 
which results from the placing of sugar on the tongue. 
It lasts as long as the sugar lasts, though diminishing in 
force apparently from a gradual exhaustion of the 
capacity of the nerve to respond to the stimulus. Still, 
it endures. So do the nerves that govern the emotional 
centers possess the power of more or less prolonged re- 
sponse to their appropriate stimuli. The act of gratify- 
ing a desire consumes more or less time. In the higher 
emotions, the duration of the pleasurable state is greater 
than in the lower ones. While in the primary physical 
form of satisfying love it is only momentary, in the 
secondary form it seems to be indefinite in time. What 
is true of love is true also of other permanent pleasures 


and enjoyments. They are real at least to the subjects 
of them. And this is the refutation of pessimism. 

Pessimism is the product of a hostile social state. Its 
answer is the substitution of a friendly social state. Only 
the amelioration of the social state can overthrow pessi- 
mism. The philosophy opposed to pessimism is not op- 
timism, the gospel of inaction, but meliorism, which is 
scientific utilitarianism. 

Happiness differs from pleasure. It can be defined as 
a condition of constantly recurring pleasures of what- 
ever class, predominating largely over pains. Perfect 
health is one condition to happiness. A second condition 
is more or less complete freedom from pain. The last 
condition, and by far the most important of all, is the 
means of satisfying desire. 

Feeling and function are distinct things; they have 
no physiological relation to each other. Function is the 
object of nature; happiness is the object of man; action 
is the object of society. 

The history of man, if it should ever be written, would 
be an account of what man has done. Subjective psy- 
chology is a psychology of action. It is the essence of 
the doctrine of individualism that what is good for the 
individual must be good for society. This is based on 
the admitted fact that society exists only for the indi- 
vidual. Society is only an idea; the only reality is the 
individual. When reformers talk of reforming society, 
they mean such modifications in its constitution and 
structure as will, in their opinion, result in improving 
the condition of its individual members. 

Most books on human or social action deal exclusively 
with the friction which it engenders, with its interfer- 
ences and conflicts, and how they may be lessened. This 
has been dignified With the high-sounding name of 


ethics, or the more grandiloquent one of "moral science." 
All the great moral precepts are as old as human records. 
The "golden rule" of Christ was laid down indepen- 
dently by Hillel and Confucius, and never practiced by 
anyone. However important moral conduct may be in 
itself, there are many reasons why it should not absorb 
so large a share of the attention of thinking persons. 
The belief that moral character can be improved by 
ethical teaching is erroneous. 

Charity is simply a mode of temporarily relieving the 
needs of a part of society, by alloting them voluntarily 
something of society's excess produce which, but for so- 
cial bars, they would take anyhow. It is a temporary 
way of relieving the social friction. Most charity is giv- 
ing by the benevolent class, not to the poor class, but to 
the non-benevolent class. Waiters' tips and porters' fees 
are examples of this. The effect of giving such gratui- 
ties is to enable the employers to keep down the wages 
of the employees who receive the gratuities. Charity 
and alms-giving do not differ in principle from the giv- 
ing of tips and fees. It is probably true that the per- 
centage of criminals from the wealthy class is greater 
than from the indigent class. Poverty is not due to idle- 
ness and wastefulness; the percentage of idle and waste- 
ful rich is far higher than the percentage of idle and 
wasteful poor. 

It is consoling to the possessors to insist, "the poor al- 
ways ye have with you." This may change two hundred 
or two thousand years from now. If it ceases, it will not 
be ethical teaching that has produced the change, but 
improved social organization. 

There has, however, been real moral progress. Moral 
progress consists in reducing social friction, and is nega- 
tive in the main. A positive moral progress would con- 


sist in the increase of pleasure. The highest ideal of hap- 
piness is the freest exercise of the greatest number and 
most energetic faculties. This is also the highest ethical 
ideal. To remove the obstacles to free social activity 
would abolish the so-called science of ethics. The avowed 
purpose of ethics is to abolish itself. The highest ethics is 
no ethics. Ideally moral conduct is wholly unmoral con- 
duct. The highest ideal of a moral state is one in which 
there will exist nothing that can be called moral. 

MENT. The first activity of sentient creatures is explora- 
tion of the environment, which is instinctive. The frog 
has passed this stage, and entered upon the second stage, 
which may fairly be called incipient intuition. It is able 
to perceive that the indirect act will be the successful 
one. F^dl intuition is not reached until a creature, after 
surveying its surroundings, is capable of perceiving from 
the outset that only by setting out in an opposite direc- 
tion from the object to be attained, can it succeed. This 
quality may correctly be called a perception of relations; 
no other intellectual faculty exists in most animals. 

Intuitive perception was developed under the spur of 
strong feeling or passion, that is, of desire. Herb- and 
grain-eating animals only very slightly exhibit this qual- 
ity, sometimes called sagacity or cunning; but carniv- 
orous animals display it in a high degree. They know, 
as we say, what their victims will do under given cir- 
cumstances, and devise means to prevent their escape. 
A higher exhibition of this arises in the sexual contests 
of males. Brain development, in all probability, is in 
reality a secondary sexual characteristic. Only the men- 
tally highest animals, especially domestic dogs, elephants, 
and a few horses, exhibit the clearest cases of true sagac- 


ity. The intuitive perception of animals develops in 
man to intuitive reasoning. 

In primitive man's struggle for existence, brute force 
played a diminishing part, and mind an increasing one. 
The pursuit of subsistence among men became the pur- 
suit of the means of subsistence. Animal activity became 
industrial activity, and the general term applied to in- 
dustrial activity is business. The great aim and object 
of life is success in business. Although animal methods 
have changed to human methods, the psychic principle 
remains the same. 

The indirect method which best insured success in 
business is most often expressed by the word shrewd- 
ness. The relations are too complicated for mere animal 
cunning to suffice. Fitness to survive does not depend 
upon intelligence, but upon shrewdness. 

Among the derivative desires that have grown up in 
society, the most powerful is doubtless ambition. Under 
the influence of government it took the form of love of 
power and its various manifestations have played a prin- 
cipal role in the history of man. The politicians and 
demagogues of any country are simply the persons who 
combine with an unscrupulous love of power or desire 
for emolument from the public revenues the highest 
development of the animal side of the intellect. They 
are the ones who from a strictly biological point are the 
fittest to survive in society. Higher than these is the 
diplomat; diplomacy is the typical form of this original 
intellectual activity in one of its highest stages. In 
warfare, the same quality goes by the name of strategy. 

All these mental acts involve a form of deception. 
The cunning of the fox and other animals is chiefly a 
mode of deceiving the creatures that constitute their 
prey. In the various modes of acquisition pursued by 


man in the social state, the principle of deception plays 
an important part. In spite of man's internal carnival 
of desires, little of it all comes into view on account of 
the systematic deception constantly practiced to prevent 
its observance. The general concealment of emotion of 
every kind belongs to this category. 

In civilized life, deception is the rule on every side. 
This assumes a malignant form among a large and ever- 
present minority of men. Social institutions favor the 
existence of such a class, a parasitic class living by their 
wits; and this class is the one that has done most in 
framing and perpetuating such institutions. If nine out 
of ten lawyers were turned into a useful profession, 
justice would gain immeasurably. Yet it is the lawyers 
who are entrusted by the credulous masses with the 
framing of the laws, and so long as the masses continue 
to do so they must pay the penalty of their own stupid- 
ity. The great departments of exchange and finance also 
abound with parasites. All this is harmonious with the 
method of nature. 

Intuitive judgment may be said psychologically to 
consist of a perception of truth. It is in no sense a de- 
ductive process. The data for an intuition are combined 
already in the brain into a psychological unit which is 
used as a complete entity and is not decomposed by the 
intuitive act. Men do not depend upon their reason in 
the ordinary affairs of life. They use what is popularly 
called "common sense"; and this differs scarcely at all 
from what is here called intuitive judgment. 

Female intuition has developed from a faculty of the 
mind which originally had as its sole purpose the pro- 
tection of the mother and her offspring. It is a part of 
the maternal instinct, and its acuteness and subtlety are 
proportional to the narrowness of its purpose. With the 


origin and growth of civilization this power has in- 
creased in complexity, and has ever been the safeguard 
of the family against all attacks, strifes, and abuses from 
whatever quarter. In the highest stages it comes into 
constant play in guarding the virtue of woman, de- 
tecting the infidelity of men, protecting the youth of 
both sexes from temptations and pitfalls of all kinds, 
and in a thousand other ways. Upon such questions the 
judgments of women are already formed in the past; 
so that when the occasion arises, no time is lost in reflec- 
tion or deliberation. As Addison worded it, 

The woman that deliberates is lost. 

This faculty is eminently conservative. Yet this needs 
a qualification. Woman's conservatism is not directed 
toward institutions and surrounding conditions, but is 
centered on self and offspring. It consists in self-preser- 
vation, rather than in the preservation of institutions. 
Moreover, female intuition involves no deception, 
whereas male intuition has for its essential characteristic 
the principle of deception. The dominant characteristic 
of the male faculty is courage; that of the female, pru- 

In all the active or progressive forms of intuition, in- 
volving the principle of deception, that have thus far 
been considered, the faculty expends itself chiefly upon 
sentient beings. Very early in the human stage, and 
more especially at the beginning of the social stage, the 
application of the directive faculty to inanimate things 
began to assume importance. Foresight in accumulating 
stores for future and permanent supply of wants may 
have been the earliest and simplest form of exercising 
this faculty; but along with it went the discovery of 


means for increasing the ease and rapidity with which 
this could be done. Whether the primary mode was 
the chase or some early form of agriculture, it called 
forth a new form of the intuitive faculty. The word 
which most adequately conveys this idea is ingenuity. 
The use of a club or a stone to increase the effect of a 
blow may seem an exceedingly simple device, and yet it 
is doubtful whether any ape or monkey has been known 
to resort to it. If they did, this would only remove the 
origin of the inventive faculty so much further back. 
The most complicated nests and methods of birds 
and animals may involve some slight use of inven- 
tion, though, quantitatively considered, these fall in- 
finitely below the simplest forms displayed by primitive 

Invention altered the primitive club or stone to the 
modern firearms of today. Methods of trapping ani- 
mals, agricultural implements, architecture, garment- 
making, the harnessing of steam and electricity, all these 
indicate the development of the inventive faculty. With 
the general upward tendency of civilized life, inven- 
tions have indefinitely multiplied. It is easy to see that 
invention is the real civilizing agent. 

Whereas intuitions may be spoken of as subjective, 
invention is objective. Again, subjective intuition is 
egoistic, while invention may be called disinterested. 
Invention may be defined as the perception of relations 
of utility. While all intuition consists in this, in all the 
forms except invention, the only utility considered is 
immediate utility to self. The utility that the inventor 
perceives is perpetual utility to all who may use the in- 
vention. In this sense, the inventor may be called the 
most practical of all men. Most inventors see their in- 
ventions developed by business men. The latter's talents 


are of a lower, coarser grain, and consist to a large extent 
in gaining for the business men what really belongs to 
the inventors. Mechanical ingenuity certainly very 
closely resembles the subjective forms of intuition. 
Qualities of material bodies and physical forces are har- 
nessed to carry out the will of the inventor. This re- 
quires a high degree of intellectual development. 

The inventive faculty gradually developed into a pas- 
sion. Ability to discern utilities and make the requisite 
adjustments was, and still is, recognized as a form of 
genius the inventive genius of man. A small but in- 
creasing proportion of the population devoted themselves 
more or less exclusively to this task. The development of 
this genius in man ultimately resulted in the introduc- 
tion of art. It caused the raw materials of nature to be 
discarded and replaced more and more, and at length al- 
most exclusively, by artificial products. Civilization in 
all its essential characteristics is an exclusively artificial 
product, the product of the inventive genius of man in 
modifying and altering the course of nature. 

The introduction of the arts, the products of inven- 
tive genius, has entailed upon mankind the necessity of 
labor. In most ages and countries this has been a severe 
hardship upon the great mass. The unjust distribution 
of the products of labor is not chargeable to inventive 
genius but to greed, which is a form of the egoistic 
faculty; and this presents a problem for the sociologist. 
To the account of inventive genius, in the broadest sense 
of the term, must be set down the spirit of scientific in- 
quiry and the passion for original research which so 
largely characterize the modern age, and which have 
wrought such a momentous change in the character of 
civilization and the condition of society. 

May man's inventive genius be increased in any way? 


The number manifesting this kind of genius may be 
greatly increased through a form of education which 
should be really adapted to calling it forth. Even if the 
mind cannot be trained to invent, the mechanical prin- 
ciples of common inventions can be taught to all, and 
the mind can be taught to look for utilities. This would, 
virtually if not literally, increase, develop, and stimulate 
the inventive genius of man. 

We now reach the faculties or branches of the intel- 
lect which are secondary in rank and derivative in char- 
acter. None of these by any possibility could have been 
developed directly from nature. Natural biological ac- 
tivities require the motive of advantage. There are cer- 
tain mental qualities which are clearly exempt from the 
biological law of advantage, since their exercise in no 
way tends to render their possessor any more fit to sur- 
vive in the struggle for existence. Any faculty of which 
this is true has the true stamp of derivativeness. 

Of all these modern, derivative outgrowths of the 
primary and original intellect, the one which seems 
most closely connected with it is the faculty of imagina- 
tion. This consists in rearranging the materials in the 
possession of the mind into new forms, combinations, 
and relations. Its more important aspect is the active 
one, in which it is seen as the so-called creative faculty. 
The faculty was simply a development from the inven- 
tive faculty, and can be successfully related to it. In 
pace with the development of the inventive genius, there 
developed an esthetic sentiment. It is inventive genius 
which furnishes the practical arts. Creative genius, on 
the contrary, ignores the practical and pursues the 
esthetic. It results in what are known as the fine arts. 
Architecture, one of the fine arts, occupies a position 
midway between the practical and the esthetic and com- 


bines both, for both the inventive and the creative 
faculty are here at work. 

Under the head of speculative genius are included all 
the disinterested or non-egoistic intellectual faculties or 
attributes, not embraced by either inventive genius or 
creative genius, as so far described. As inventive genius 
was extended to include the faculty of scientific discov- 
ery, we are here chiefly limited to what is commonly 
embraced under the term philosophy as distinguished 
from science. What are the attributes which speculative 
philosophy, in its widest sense, calls into exercise? 

The inventive faculty began to busy itself with the 
wider relations existing between all the observed facts 
of nature, whereby it was able to discover truth, and 
lead the way to science. Its primary purpose was still 
the discernment of utilities; but it soon encountered 
relations and began to discover truths whose utility either 
to self or to mankind was doubtful or even impercepti- 
ble truths which were beyond its power to seize upon 
and convert, through any exercise of ingenuity, to human 
use. Everywhere he gazed, man beheld objects and phe- 
nomena of nature, such as the sun, moon, stars, moun- 
tains, rivers, the sea, over which he had no control, and 
which were to him incomprehensible, inscrutable, and 

Of all such relations, that of causation was the most 
fascinating. It is possible that the still egoistic intellect, 
in striving to master these wider relations, may have 
been, at least at first, largely influenced by a vague sense 
that, could it but once understand them, it might bend 
even these to its selfish uses. When storm and flood and 
thunderbolt wrecked their way through man's habita- 
tions, he may have dreamed that these too might be yet 


made to feel man's power, and bend their necks under 
his yoke, in compliance to his ambitious will. 

Thus began man's great quest for the causes of the 
unexplained and irresistible phenomena of nature. Man 
first projected himself behind the phenomena of nature, 
and supposed the same or similar causes and methods as 
those which he employed. The events of nature were 
conceived as presided over by intelligence and will in 
all essential aspects similar to those of man. Thus arose 
the mythologies of the world. At the same time, man 
turned his speculative faculty inward upon himself, and 
thus created philosophy. Two other fields developed, 
the most remote from the egoistic base of mind: logic, 
and mathematics. For these are purely hypothetical and 
purely abstract. Of the two, logic is the more abstract; 
since geometry may be regarded simply as the applica- 
tion of logic to quantity. Mathematics is the test or 
criterion of all science; logic, of all reasoning. Unbur- 
dened by facts or concrete conditions, mathematics 
reaches the absolutely exact; and all the sciences seek to 
approach as closely as possible to its perfect standard. 
Similarly, logic furnishes the laws by which all the 
intellectual operations must square themselves. 

Abstract reasoning may be regarded as the highest 
stage which has been attained by the human mind, meas- 
uring the climb upward exclusively by the degree of 
divergence from the purely concrete, interested, egoistic 
base of the intuitive reason. This form of development, 
however, is by no means necessarily a progress in the 
direction of practical importance. Such processes must 
be exempt from the law of natural selection. Yet if in- 
vention and scientific discovery furnished the material 
factors of civilization, generalization and speculation, 
with the aids of philosophy and scientific reasoning, have 


given the world an intellectual civilization, without 
which material progress would have little value. 

Intuition is absolutely simple and undifferentiated in- 
tellect. It contained the germs or potentialities of all 
the intellectual faculties that subsequently evolved from 
it. The intellect is of a purely psychic, and not at all 
of a physiological nature. Its operations are correlated 
with actual movements taking place in the brain and 
the higher ganglia, doubtless in the strict relation of 
effect to cause. Intellect is simply a property of mind, 
as sweetness is a property of sugar. 

Intellect must not be confused with consciousness. 
Consciousness is not a faculty, but rather the condition 
of all mental operations. When consciousness ceases, 
mind ceases. Consciousness embraces feeling as well as 
thinking and knowing. Nor is intellect knowledge. In 
its active sense, that of knowing, knowledge is an integ- 
ral part of intellect. In the more usual, passive sense, 
knowledge is the result of the intellectual processes, and 
in turn the material for subsequent intellectual opera- 
tions. Intelligence is not intellect: it simply predicates 
a fair degree of intellectual capacity, in possession of an 
adequate supply of knowledge. 

The psychology of intellectual direction is the name 
which may be given to the work of the intellect in 
controlling the true psychic, and hence also, the social 
forces. The intellect is not the force that makes the 
changes desired in the environment; it is simply the 
directive agent. The intellect is in constant use and 
ceaseless activity, and directs the greater part of the 
movements of its possessor. It is this which distinguishes 
man from the other animals, and makes him a rational 



used here to denote all classes of phenomena, whether 
physical, vital, or even psychic, into which the intellec- 
tual or rational element does not enter. The word mind 
will be used in the somewhat popular sense of rational or 
intellectual, the two terms thus mutually excluding each 
other and, taken together, covering all possible phe- 

As has been pointed out, the process or method of 
nature is the opposite of economical, being wasteful in 
the extreme, and consisting in the infinite multiplicity 
of chances, while the process or method of mind is the 
only true economy. Nature is practical, in that she 
never makes anything which has not the potential ele- 
ments of utility; and prodigal, in that she spares no 
expense in accomplishing even the smallest result. 

The tendency throughout nature is to exaggerate the 
irregularities of normal development. Thus the progress 
of organic development has been to a large extent the 
successive creation of types that have contained within 
themselves the elements of their own destruction. This 
rhythmical character of organic progress is therefore 
essentially self-defeating. In natural economics, the 
effects are exactly equal to the causes; in human or 
rational economics, the effect is increasingly greater than 
the expenditure involved in the cause. 

It is in rational man that the first application of any- 
thing worthy of the name of economy appears. Only 
through foresight and design can anything be done eco- 
nomically; and nature has neither. Neither labor nor 
production has any place in animal economics. All labor 
consists in the artificial transformation of man's environ- 
ment. Production consists in artificially altering the 
form of natural objects. The arts, taken together, con- 
stitute material civilization, and it is this that chiefly 


distinguishes man from the rest of nature. It is due 
exclusively to his mind, to the rational or intellectual 

The biologic law may be defined as the survival of the 
best adapted structures. The survival of the fittest is 
essentially a process of competition in its purest form, 
wholly unmixed with either moral or intellectual ele- 
ments. The prevailing idea which claims that it is the 
fittest possible that survive in this struggle is wholly 
false. The effect of natural competition is to prevent 
any form from attaining its maximum development, 
and to maintain a certain comparatively low level of 
development for all forms that succeed in surviving. 

" Whenever competition is wholly removed, as through the 
agency of man in the interest of any one form, great strides 
are immediately made by the form thus protected, and it soon 
outstrips all those that depend upon competition for their 
motive to advancement." 

The cereals, the fruit trees, the domestic animals, illus- 
trate this fully. 

"Competition, therefore, not only involves the enormous 
waste which has been described, but it prevents the maximum 
development, since the best that can be attained under its in- 
fluence is far inferior to that which is easily attained by the 
artificial, i. e., the rational and intelligent removal of that 

The whole upward struggle of rational man, whether 
physical, social, or moral, has been with this tyrant of 
nature the law of competition. Insofar as he has pro- 
gressed at all beyond the purely animal stage, he has 
done so through triumphing little by little over this 
law, and gaining somewhat the mastery in this struggle. 


"All human institutions religion, government, law, mar- 
riage, custom together with innumerable other modes of 
regulating social, industrial, and commercial life, are broadly 
viewed, only so many ways of meeting and checkmating the 
principle of competition, as it manifests itself in society." 

The ethical code and the moral law are nothing else than 
the means adopted by reason, intelligence and refined 
sensibility for chaining the competitive egoism that all 
men have inherited from their animal ancestors. 

The brain of man was itself originally an engine of 
competition. The competition which we see in the social 
and industrial world, competition aided and modified by 
reason and intelligence, while it does not differ in prin- 
ciple or purpose from the competition among plants and 
animals, differs widely in its methods and effects. We 
see in it the same soulless struggle, the same intense 
egoism, the same sacrifice of the weaker to the stronger, 
the same frenzy of the stronger to possess and monopo- 
lize the earth. But an antagonistic principle is also in 
active operation. It is mind alone that perceives that 
competition is wasteful of energy, and therefore, in the 
interest of the very success that competition seeks, it 
proceeds to antagonize competition and to substitute 
for it art, science, and cooperation. 

"In society, therefore, competition tends to defeat itself by 
inciting against it the power of thought. It cannot endure. 
It is at best only a temporary condition or transition state.'* 

On the one hand, the competition between men resolves 
itself into a competition between machines, and instead 
of the fittest organism it is the fittest mechanism that 
survives. On the other hand, the competition between 
individuals becomes a competition between associations 


of individuals. Such associations are the result of cooper- 
ation, which is the opposite of competition. 

"The chief difference between employers and employed until 
recently has been that the former have used the rational method, 
while the latter have used the natural method. . . . Latterly, 
however, labor has begun in a small way to call to its aid the 
psychological expedient of cooperation." 

This was at first, so strange and unexpected did it seem, 
looked upon as a crime against society, and many still 
so regard it. The laws of modern nations are framed 
on the assumption that capital naturally combines, while 
labor competes. Attempts on the part of labor to com- 
bine against capital are usually suppressed by the armed 
force of the state, while capitalists are protected by the 
civil and military authority of the state against such 
assumed unlawful attempts. These enormous odds that 
labor must overcome will greatly retard the progress of 
industrial reform, which aims to place labor on an even 
footing with capital in this respect. 

Competition between industrial associations, or cor- 
porations, follows the law of competition among rational 
beings in general, and is only a brief transition period, 
to be quickly followed by further combination. The 
latter gave rise to corporations; the former gives rise to 
great compound corporations, now commonly called 
trusts. This continues until the whole product of a given 
industry is controlled by a single group of men, which 
results in a monopoly control of the product. Yet this is 
not an unmixed evil, since the wastage of competition is 

The activities of salesmen and commercial travellers 
resulting from competition, are pure wastage. And, as 
for advertising, 


"The essence of an advertisement is a falsehood. It is an 
intentional effort to make the public believe that the particular 
article advertised is either better or cheaper than the same 
article sold by rivals, which the dealer knows is not the case. 
lEvery sale thus secured is therefore really 'obtaining money 
under false pretenses/ which is nominally a punishable of- 
fense. ... In fact, society is based on the normal occurrence 
of this form of lying/' 

When mind enters into the competitive contest, 

"while it is still the strong that survive, it is a strength which 
comes from indirection, from deception, artfulness, cunning, 
and shrewdness, necessarily coupled with stunted moral qualities, 
and largely aided by the accident of position. In no proper 
sense is it true that the fittest survive/' 

Competition tends to choke individual freedom and 
clog the wheels of social progress. We thus get the social 
paradox that individual freedom can only come through 
sJcial regulation. Among important propositions which 
the industrial history of the world has established, for 
the most part in direct opposition to the hitherto ac- 
cepted tenets of political economy, and which Ward has 
called Economic Paradoxes, are these: 

Competition raises prices and rates. 

Combination often lowers prices and rates. 

Private monopoly can only be prevented by public 

Public service will secure better talent than private 
enterprise for the same outlay. 

Private enterprise taxes the people more heavily than 
government does. 

Increase of wages is attended with increase of profits. 

Prices fall as wages rise. 


Diminished hours of labor bring increased production. 

Reduction of the time worked enhances the wages 

A man working alone earns the same as when his wife 
and children also work. 

The words civilization and social progress are not 
strictly synonymous. There may be a high state of civili- 
zation which produces little or no true progress. Progress 
is increase <)f human happiness, or, negatively consid- 
ered, reduction of human suffering. Civilization does 
not essentially consist in securing this effect. Civiliza- 
tion is the product of many men at work with their 
inventive brains, each seeking to compel the forces of 
nature to do something for himself. 

The chief defects of the social system as it is now, and 
always has been, are due to social friction. The problem 
is therefore reduced to that of lessening social friction. 
If social friction should ever be completely eliminated, 

"it will be by a conscious social effort wisely directed to the 
removal of all inducements to the indulgence of selfish greed/' 

It has been said that this presupposes a change in 
human nature. The answer is that the intuitive reason 
does not crave the injury of others. If its egoistic ends 
can be attained without this, it will not be resorted to. 

It is not unscientific to ascribe to society a conscious- 
ness, the composite of the consciousness of its individual 
members, more or less applied to common social prob- 
lems. The universal or complete organization of any 
given country can be compared to the organ of con- 
sciousness in the animal, thus completing the analogy 
of the social to the animal organism. Government, 
whether in its legislative, executive, or judicial function, 


insofar as it acts at all, is the servant of the will of its 
members in the same way that the brain is the servant 
of the animal will. This analogy is properly applicable 
only in its psychological aspects. 

The individual will is the conative faculty the fac- 
ulty through which a being strives to satisfy its desires. 
It is the means by which the will exists, leading to the 
supply of its wants and the safety of its life. In society 
the wants of individuals struggle to reach the seat of 
social consciousness, the organized state, and produce 
reactions tending to their relief. The state is the organ 
of social consciousness, and must ever seek to obey the 
will of society. Higher and higher types of statesman- 
ship will follow the advancing intelligence of mankind, 
until one by one the difficult social problems will be 
solved. The state will extend its powers, the only limit 
being the good of society. As long as there is any addi- 
tional way in which that object can be secured through 
governmental action, such action will be taken. 

It is hardly necessary to note the exceedingly narrow 
attitude of a certain class of persons who habitually 
speak of government as if it were something foreign to 
the people, and hostile to the true interests of society. 
Such views are especially meaningless in modern times, 
when governments have become so extremely sensitive 
to the social will that a single adverse vote will over- 
throw a cabinet, and where appeals are every year taken 
to the suffrage of the people. 

"This country is today fully ripe for a series of important 
national reforms, which cannot be made because a compar- 
atively small number of influential citizens oppose them/' 

When the public will is positively and emphatically made 
known, such measures are often pushed through even 


too swiftly. Government is becoming more and more 
the organ of social consciousness, and more and more 
the servant of the social will. Our Declaration of Inde- 
pendence, which recites that "government derives its 
just powers from the 'consent' " of the governed has 
already been fully outgrown. It is no longer the con- 
sent, but the positively known will of the governed, 
from which government now derives its powers. 

The moralists have undertaken the impossible task 
of removing the so-called evil propensities of man. 
Meliorism teaches us that there are no such, but that the 
evil consequences of actions dictated by natural impulses 
may be rendered impossible. Desires alter as the environ- 
ment alters. This constitutes the overwhelming argu- 
ment for the creation of a proper social environment. 
The desires and the consequent conduct of men depend 
upon their ideas, that is, their opinions and beliefs, and 
these in turn depend upon their education. It is, there- 
fore, this education that requires first to be attended to. 
It is the highest duty of society to see to it that every 
member receives a sound education. 

Should this step be taken, there would still remain a 
wide field for the exercise of the collective ingenuity. 
The problem before the social intellect is nothing less 
than the organization of happiness. But the existing 
evils of society are so great and so universal, that the 
first steps would necessarily be taken rather in the direc- 
tion of lightening or removing these, than in increasing 
or. extending the positive enjoyment of life. 

"So long as there is pain to be relieved, the attempt to heighten 
pleasure seems a sacrilege. The social intellect should, there- 
fore, first and foremost, grapple with the whole problem of 
reducing the social friction." 


Governments of the past and present may be regarded 
as empirical, and they have served a purpose in social 
development and civilization. They may be classified 
into aristocracies, with a ruling class, not necessarily 
superior, but held to be so; autocracies, or individual 
governments; and democracies, crowd rules. A fourth 
stage, revolting against these in the direction of indi- 
vidualism and sometimes carried so far as to amount to 
practical anarchism, is gradually yielding to what may 
be called plutocracy, which thrives well in connection 
with a weak democracy and aims to supersede it entirely. 
The world is approaching a stage at which those who 
labor, no matter how skilled, how industrious, or how 
frugal, receive merely enough "to subsist and to per- 
petuate their race." The rest finds its way into the 
hands of a comparatively few, usually non-producing, 
individuals. These are great and serious evils, compared 
with which all the crimes, recognized as such, that would 
be committed if no government existed, would be merely 

"The underpaid labor, the prolonged and grovelling drudgery, 
the wasted strength, the misery and squalor, the diseases result- 
ing, and the premature deaths that would be prevented by a 
just distribution of the products of labor, would in a single 
year outweigh all the so-called crime of a century, for the 
prevention of which, it is said, government alone exists/' 

This ignoring of great evils, while so violently striking 
at small ones, is the mark of a sick civilization, and 
warns us of the approaching old age of the race. 

Primitive government, when only brute force was 
employed, was strong enough to secure the just and 
equitable distribution of wealth. Today, when mental 


force is everything, and physical force is nothing, it is 
powerless to accomplish this. 

"It is utterly illogical to say that aggrandizement by physical 
force should be forbidden, while aggrandizement by mental 
force or legal fiction should be permitted. It is absurd to 
claim that injustice committed by muscle should be regulated, 
while that committed by brain should be unrestrained." 

Can society escape from the coils of plutocracy, in 
which it finds itself today so ruinously entangled? There 
is one power, and only one, that is greater than that 
which now chiefly rules society. That power is society 
itself. The one form of government that is stronger 
than autocracy or aristocracy or democracy, or even plu- 
tocracy is sociocracy rule of society by itself. Socioc- 
racy will differ from all other forms of government that 
have been devised, and yet that difference will not be 
so radical as to require a revolution. Society would 
inquire in a business way, without fear, favor, or bias, 
into everything that concerned its welfare, and if it 
found obstacles it would remove them, and if it found 
opportunities it would improve them. It would further, 
in all possible ways, its own interests. Let the social 
ideal of the socialization of happiness be erected, and let 
society start moving toward it, and the result is already 
practically achieved. 


MOVEMENT IN SOCIETY. Pure sociology is merely the 
scientific inquiry into the actual condition of society. 
It aims to answer the questions What, Why, and How. 
Applied sociology aims to answer the question, What 
for? It deds with the object, end, or purpose of society. 
The subject-matter of pure sociology is achievement; 
that of applied sociology, improvement. All applied 
science is naturally man-centered. Pure science produced 
the first change of front in man's thinking, namely, 
from God to nature. Applied science constitutes a second 
change of front, that is, from nature to man. 

Comte laid down two principles which are well 
worthy of attention. The first was that the practical 
applications of the sciences increase with their com- 
plexity. The other was that phenomena grow more 
susceptible to artificial modification with the increasing 
complexity of their phenomena. Both of these hint that 
sociology, the highest and most complex of the sciences, 
is far more suitable for practical application and arti- 
ficial modification of its subject-matter than psychology, 
biology, physics, chemistry, and astronomy. 

Applied sociology proceeds on the assumption of the 
superiority of the artificial to the natural. This point 
has already been demonstrated several times in this study. 
The purpose of applied sociology is to harmonize achieve- 



ment with improvement. The reason achievement has 
done so little toward improving the condition of the 
human race lies in the fact that achievement has not 
been, to any great extent, socialized. The problem of 
applied sociology is that of the socialization of achieve- 

The fruits of achievement are incalculable in amount, 
as we have shown, and endure forever. Their authors 
are few in number, soon pass away, and would be the 
last to claim an undue share of these fruits. They work 
for all mankind, and for all time; all they ask is that all 
mankind shall benefit forever by their work. 

The true definition of justice is that it is the enforce- 
ment by society of an artificial equality in social condi- 
tions, which are naturally unequal. Justice would 
forcibly shear the strong of their power to exploit the 
weak. All civil, legal, and political justice reverses the 
law of nature and is a wholly artificial institution. But 
applied sociology deals with something larger than civil 
and political justice; that is, social justice. Social justice 
means the equalization of social welfare or happiness. 
Society's whole trend of advancement has been in the 
direction of acquiring freedom for its members. The 
three stages of this have been national freedom, political 
freedom, and, still largely in the future, social freedom. 

The new ethics has for its aim the minimization of 
pain and the maximization of pleasure. For the present, 
its effort must be confined to the former, as we have 
stated. The animal world lives in a pain economy. The 
state of primitive man was hardly better. The problem 
before society is, can a way be found to substitute for 
this pain economy a pleasure economy? 

It has often been said that ideas rule the world. But 
this is true only of world ideas. All sane persons of 


mature minds must think a thought before it can be 
socially effective. There have been two chief interpre- 
tations of history: the materialistic interpretation, and 
the ideological interpretation. The world ideas that 
rule the world are nearly synonymous with beliefs. 
Belief might be defined as fixed or settled opinion; but 
there is also embraced in the idea behind the word a 
certain disregard of the evidence upon which it rests, 
while in opinion a certain amount of evidence is implied. 
Beliefs rest on feeling. World views grow out of feeling. 
They are bulwarks of race safety. You cannot argue 
men out of them. They are the conditions to group, as 
well as to individual, salvation. 

This element of interest, or feeling, links beliefs to 
desires, and reconciles the ideological and the materialis- 
tic interpretations of history. For the materialistic or 
economic interpretation rests upon desires and their sat- 
isfactions. Every belief embodies a desire, or rather a 
great mass of desires. The belief or idea is not a force; 
the force lies in the desire. The belief does not cause the 
desire; the reverse is nearer the truth. 

The economic impulses desires, wants, feelings 
necessarily precede the ideas opinions, beliefs, world 
conceptions. Yet it is the latter that determine action. 
The purely economic interpretation of history is hence 
entirely inadequate. 

Man's first interpretation of the universe consisted in 
his attributing to it his own nature, Man regarded all 
nature as animated. Most early religious ideas are of this 
nature. The trembling of the leaves, under the push of 
the invisible wind; the steady forward march of the 
waves, propelled by an unseen force, the movements of 
a stream, the clouds, the lightning, the sun and the stars 
and the moon all of these have no apparent mover, 


and yet, they move. The savage, with small shelter by 
day and often lying under the glimmer of the sky by 
night, sees all this much more vividly than civilized 
man. He tries to explain it all, and has very little diffi- 
culty in doing so. All these elements of nature, to be 
capable of moving and changing their forms, must be 
alive; that is, must be ensouled. They must themselves 
be living beings, endowed both with spontaneous ac- 
tivity and some degree of intelligence akin to his own. 
This conception is the essence of fetichism the earliest 
form of religion, in the sense of a belief. Out of this 
grew all other religious ideas not simply primitive be- 
liefs, but the whole series of theological conceptions, 
and all beliefs respecting soul and spirit. 

We have had Tylor's celebrated "minimum definition" 
of religion, as the belief in spiritual beings. This grew 
out of two elements, a subjective or internal one, and 
an objective or external. To the subjective cause be- 
longed such manifestation as: shadows, reflections, 
echoes, dreams, delirium, insanity, epilepsy, swooning, 
trance, and death. The objective cause lies in the move- 
ments of nature, discussed above. No amount of think- 
ing, without the organization of facts and ideas that 
science gives, could give man a correct interpretation 
of any one of these. 

A man's shadow, to the savage, with no conception 
of the nature of light, is clearly his own form, more or 
less distorted by perspective, without substance, thick- 
ness, or touchability, moving as he moves, altering its 
shape with the altered angle of the sun, or the angle of 
the object it falls on. It is clear that he causes it, that it 
is in some way a product of himself. Evidently there 
is something in him, or belonging to him, that can go 
out and occupy another part of space from that occupied 


by his real self another self, a double, but devoid of 
flesh and blood: a spiritual double. All mythology ex- 
hibits this belief; even the cultured Greeks and Romans 
inextricably confused "shadow" and "spirit." 

A man's reflection in a still pool of water shows this 
other self, but far more distinctly, equipped now with 
color and recognizable features. Others who see it in- 
form him that all the features are his own. He sees the 
images of others, which agree with the originals. When 
he plunges his hand in the pool to catch this double, there 
is nothing there. What he sees must be immaterial, that 
is, a being without matter in its composition; this con- 
ception is close to that of spirit. 

Echo confirms the same belief. An echo is not an 
answer; it is a man's own voice, answering his voice here 
from a distance. His other self, then, must have the 
power of speaking. Dreams are surer evidences of the 
activities of this spiritual other-self. In them the man 
wanders far away, meets other men and other scenes, 
does acts of bravery, enjoys pleasures never before tasted. 
He awakes; he is assured that his body has been lying 
in the same place, motionless, all the time. Yet he knows 
that he has done these things. It must be that other self 
at work again. ... In disease-engendered delirium, 
catalepsy, insanity, the same result follows strange 
things are said, strange things are done, by the sufferer, 
which he forgets and has to be told of, on recovery. His 
other spirit must have possessed him. It is well known 
that the healing art of primitive people consists primarily 
of seeking to drive the spirits out of the sick. Christ, 
when he sought to exorcise demons, as those that the 
account says were driven into the Gadarene swine, was 
moving in this same low primitive state of belief. 

Trance, ecstasy, mediumship, swoons, and, at last, 


death, all lead further to a riveting of this belief in the 
double, the other-self. Death is no more, to the savage, 
than a permanent swoon. The double has gone, this time 
never to return. Where has it gone? At first, the spirit is 
supposed to reside near the body, or where the body is 
buried; an immense number and variety of early funeral 
ceremonies illustrate this. These all point, says Ward, to 
one notion common to all races, namely, that of the 
continued existence after death of the bodiless part of 

The ideas above caused primitive man to people every 
spot with numberless spirits. As a rule, these were re- 
garded as evil disposed; to them were attributed most 
of the misfortunes that cursed the living. These had to 
be feared, worshiped, implored, and propitiated. When 
a great hero died, his weapons were buried with him, 
to arm him in the next life; his possessions were often 
interred with him, for his later use; top often slaves 
and wives were sacrificed, to accompany him and min- 
ister to his wants. As time passed, his earthly exploits 
became more and more exaggerated, until they became 
marvels and miracles. Complete elevation to godship is 
the final result. This takes the form of ancestor- worship, 
regarded by some as the basis and beginning of all theo- 
logical conceptions. 

This subjective evidence, overwhelming to primitive 
man's mind, accompanied by an equal bulk of objective 
evidence, caused man to believe that there is such a 
thing as spirit an invisible, untouchable, conscious 
power, not occupying space, and freed of the limitations 
that hobble the actions of embodied beings. 

The idea of the temporary continuance of man's spirit 
led irresistibly to a belief in the permanence of this 
spirit the belief in personal immortality, from the sub- 


jective point of view. The objective evidence took the 
form of creating a number of powerful spiritual beings, 
or gods. Ancestor worship may have been the first form; 
but the deification of the sun, animals, plants, stones, 
also took place in widespread manifestations. The time 
came, in the development of these beliefs, when the 
primitive many-god state was succeeded by a dualism: 
when the spiritual power was crudely divided between 
two great antagonistic forces, Good against Evil, Light 
against Darkness, as the Persian religion has it. The 
Christian Satan, Mephistopheles, Devil, Lucifer, Old 
Nick, seems merely a mere modification of the Persian 
Ahriman, god of darkness. 

Religious structures grew from the start. Man be- 
lieved in the multitude of spirits; evils came; evidently 
the spirits had to be persuaded to lighten their curses. 
This could be done only through some mediator, who 
had the gift or power of communicating with these 
spirits. This mediator must be a man; otherwise he could 
not also communicate with men. Is it possible that any 
men possessed this power? Under such circumstances, 
the slenderest claim to such a power would be eagerly 
listened to. Even today self-styled healers and prophets 
can attract a multitude of followers; it is not surprising 
that primitive healers and self-styled prophets drew 
galaxies of followers after them. This was not solely 
fraud; all believed in the spirits; and perhaps all of the 
healers and prophets believed that they had the actual 
power of communicating with the spirits. 

It was thus that man's priesthoods grew. The group 
sentiment of safety created it; but its activities soon 
began to run counter to the very force that created it. 
The political organization was still weak, and its poten- 
tial penalties weak. There was only one source of fear 


to which men would bow, and that was the fear of the 
anger of the gods. Thus men claiming the power to 
avert this formed the priesthood, able to cooperate with 
the political power, whatever it might be, in preserving 
the social order. This class still continues to exert an 
influence at least equal to that of any other class in the 
social structures. 

The religious ideas thus far considered consist entirely 
of error. Religious structures are based entirely on re- 
ligious ideas. They served a useful function. May error, 
then, be useful? There is no doubt of this. And yet, 
the greater part of the evils from which the human race 
has suffered, evils unknown to animal races, are due 
really to error to false conclusion drawn from inade- 
quate premises. The most shocking of these consequences 
unquestionably is the sacrifice of human victims at the 
funerals of chieftains. This custom is rare among the 
lowest races, and reaches its maximum in races well ad- 
vanced toward barbarism, or fairly within this stage. 
This belief is a typical world view. It exists in all human 
races at the proper stage in the development of the 
rational faculty; and was shared by every member of 
the group, without exception. Some one has well said 
that there are no dissenters among savages. 

The placing of property inside the tombs of the dead 
led, at times, to an enormous destruction of property. 
Long after the sacrificing of human victims has been 
given up, the sacrificing of property has continued. 

"Indeed, the funerals among civilized peoples are often 
extravagantly expensive, and this waste of property may be 
regarded as a survival of the barbaric practice of burying 
or destroying all the property of a dead person." 


The erection of costly tombs for the housing of the 
remains of great warriors and rulers followed a similar 
primitive logic. This may be all that we still have of 
some remote civilizations. An enormous amount of labor 
was expended upon these labor withdrawn from pro- 
ductive industry, and involving a corresponding amount 
of misery among the people. The pyramids of Egypt 
represent the highest point to which this was carried; 
for they are merely the tombs of the great kings of the 
country. They are human error hardened into granite. 
The principal practices occurring in religion, based 
on error, in their successive development among all 
peoples, are as follows: 

( 1 ) Self -mutilation. A widespread custom, common 

at funerals and afterwards, as a token of 
grief, supposed to please the departed spirit, 
or appease some god. Out of original cutting 
and gashing of the mourners, it softened into 
sackcloth and ashes. 

(2) Superstition, restricted to forms of error which 

do not take life, but restrict liberty of action 
and fill the minds of the people with a thou- 
sand baseless fears and terrors. This also bars 
intellectual and material progress, even in 
civilized times. In China, for instance, the 
building of railroads was opposed, for fear 
the noise of trains would disturb the dead. 

(3) Asceticism. This appeared above barbarism. 

The earlier self -torturing gave way to that 
milder form called puritanism in America; 
this is dangerous to health and destructive of 
happiness and of progress. 

(4) Animal-worship. Primitive animal totemism, 

among savages and barbarians, becomes more 


serious when among civilized people, as in 
India, it makes vermin, serpents, and dan- 
gerous wild beasts sacred, and prevents their 
destruction. The logic of this grew in the 
belief that human souls shuttled in and out 
of the bodies of animals. In India, in 1899, 
24,261 people died of snakebite; tigers, leop- 
ards, and their kindred annually destroy be- 
tween 2000 and 3000 people, largely due to 
this error. 

(5) Witchcraft. The tendency appeared early to 

restrict this chiefly to women. Minds as ad- 
vanced as Luther, Melancthon, John Wesley, 
and Blackstone believed implicitly in witches. 
The thousands of witches put to death 
through the ages have all been victims of 
this hideous error. 

(6) Persecution. This is confined here to the perse- 

cution for religious motives of so-called her- 
etics. A heretic is a person whose religion 
differs slightly from the accepted religion. 
A difference of belief is a mark of civiliza- 
tion; and it has always happened that the 
dissenters were the more civilized. Their per- 
secution and destruction means the slaughter 
of the elite of mankind. Those who can 
escape fly to other lands, and drain off the 
vigor of the persecuting homeland. Spain has 
declined, due chiefly to this cause. 

(7) Resistance to truth. This opposition of error 

to truth has probably been more serious for 
mankind at large than all of the other errors 
combined. All the truth that science has 
revealed has had to struggle against the en- 


trenched errors. A chief effect was to divert 
men from trying to discover truth; and the 
greater part of all intellectual activity has 
been diverted into safer but comparatively 
useless channels. Its blighting effect is still 
entrenched among many of our ministers, 
professors, editors, and other leaders of 
thought. The price to pay for material suc- 
cess in intellectual fields is often a pandering 
to the gross errors of the popular mind. 
(8) Obscurantism. This form of the last error mani- 
fests itself in the prohibition or suppression 
of books and writings, and the general cen- 
sorship of the press. The Roman Catholic 
and the Greek Catholic churches have prac- 
ticed this most effectively. It was once ef- 
fective; today, except among the devout fol- 
lowers of the faith, it is largely a matter for 
laughter. Most of man's greatest brain- 
efforts appear on the Papal Index. 
Robert G. Ingersoll, when asked if he could suggest 
any way by which, if he had the power, he could im- 
prove the universe, replied that he would first make 
health "catching," instead of disease. This error we have 
been considering might be considered as social disease, 
which is contagious, and passed on from mind to mind 
and from age to age. The mission of social science is 
to do away with error, and replace it by truth. The 
method of this is universal education. 

The view that matter and spirit are the same is true 
monism, and Ward states his belief that it is also true 
science. Both error and truth are ideas, that is, they are 
conclusions drawn from facts. Error is false deduction; 
truth is correct deduction. With the same reasoning 


power, the truth or falsity of the conclusions will de- 
pend upon the amount of knowledge. An uninformed 
class is always regarded as an inferior class. An unedu- 
cated man is presumed to be low in the social scale; a 
college graduate, to be high. The lower classes in the 
past have been too uninformed to aid themselves; most 
of their progress has come from the efforts of the in- 
formed upper classes. And the uninformed class are 
kept uninformed by priesthoods, and 

"The later, more ingenious priesthoods have invented at 
least one more terrible punishment than any savage priesthood 
has ever devised, namely, that known as 'eternal damnation/ 
or a future state of endless pain." 

In addition to religious errors, the lower classes suffer 
from the error of loyalty to their leaders among the 
upper classes. 

And yet, the lower classes of society are the intellec- 
tual equals of the upper classes. The difference in the 
intelligence of the two classes is immense; but this is 
due, not to a difference in intellect, but to a difference 
in intellectual equipment, that is, knowledge. 

"Of all the problems of applied sociology that which towers 
above all others is the problem of the organization of society 
so that the heritage of the past shall be transmitted to all its 
members alike. Until this problem is solved, there is scarcely 
any use in trying to solve other problems. Not only are most 
of them otherwise incapable of solution, but this primary 
problem, once solved, all others will solve themselves." 

The lower class has already risen from slavery, through 
serfdom, to the condition of wage-earners. All truth is 
within the reach of all men, speaking in the large. There 


is no race, there is no class of men, incapable of assimi- 
lating the social achievement of mankind, and of prof- 
itably applying the social heritage. 

ACHIEVEMENT IN SOCIETY. Genius, the intellectual 
and moral nature of man insofar as it relates to human 
achievement, is to all intents and purposes a fixed 
quantity, which cannot be affected by any artificial 
devices that man can adopt. With it, therefore, the 
sociologist has nothing to do. The sociologist's labors 
must be directed toward the most effective means of 
utilizing those constants of nature which consist in the 
intellectual and moral elements of society. This can be 
done by appropriate adjustments in the surrounding 
conditions. The environment is adjustable. 

Environment has not produced nor determined civili- 
zation. It is not an active agent, but a passive condition, 
Man is active; the environment represents opposition. 
Civilization is the result of activities of all men during 
all time, struggling against the environment and slowly 
conquering nature. There are immense differences in 
men, in this respect. Human achievement has been the 
work of a very small number of individuals. Certain 
obscure and subtle processes of nature have produced 
from time to time extraordinary minds; these minds, 
given the proper opportunity, have produced all that 
the world values. Human achievement is due to them; 
and, but for them, there would have been no achieve- 

Alphonse de Candolle, in his study of the causes con- 
ducing to the effectual development of genius, lists 
nurture as far more important than nature. Good in- 
comes, contact with foreign minds, faculties for re- 
search, public interest in the truth, freedom of thought 
and expression, lax religion, an uncelibate clergy, these 


are among the specific elements of nurture that he 
praises. M. Odin has made an exhaustive geographical 
study of the production of men of genius in France. 
He decides that geography is not the determining factor. 
He finds that race is not the determinant. As to religious 
causation, the existence of a celibate clergy, denying 
legitimate offspring to certain sheltered and cultured 
minds, as Galton says, "brutalized the breed of our fore- 
fathers." The church, says Galton, "practiced the 
arts which breeders would use, who aimed at creating 
ferocious, currish, and stupid natures." De Candolle 
lists an amazing number of men of genius or talent who 
are the children of protestant ministers, and who would 
not have existed if their fathers had been celibate. This 
includes Agassiz, Encke, Euler, Jenner, Linnaeus, among 
scientists; Addison, Ben Jonson, Lessing, Richter, Swift, 
Thomson, Wieland, among writers; Emerson, Hallam, 
Hobbes, PufFendors, Sismondi, among sociological scien- 
tists; and several artists. The Catholic clergy themselves 
furnish, M. Odin points out, a pitiable paucity of men 
of talent even, compared to the Protestant clergy. 

Statistics established further that men of talent and 
genius do not come from the country regions, but from 
the cities. Again, the number of women of genius, 
compared to the men, is about one to twenty which 
de Candolle says does not spring from any essential de- 
ficiency in the female mind. Last of all we come to the 
economic environment. De Candolle's lists of French 
savants and of men of genius of the eighteenth century 

Of the wealthy or noble class, 21, or 35% 
Of the middle class, 2T, or 42% 

Of the working class, 14, or 23% 


The first yields by far the largest proportion, considering 
the small number that belong to this class. The second 
is a larger class, and its production is relatively less than 
the first. The third represents the great bulk of the 
population; its relative production of men of genius 
and talent is almost a negligible quantity. 

Dividing men of talent into two classes, (1) those 
whose youth had no material concern, grouped together 
as "rich," and (2) those whose youth was spent in pov- 
erty or economic in security, Odin establishes the fol- 

Periods Rich Poor 

1300-1500 24 1 

1500-1600 81 4 

1600-1700 157 9 

1700-1800 227 32 

1800-1825 73 11 

At the same rate, the nineteenth century would give, in 
full, 292 to 44. De Candolle's figures for men of science 
are similar to these figures by Odin for men of letters. 
The class he calls wealthy amounted to less than 3 % of 
the population, and it furnished 91% of the men of 
talent in letters. The poor, comprising 97% of the 
population, furnished 9% of the men of talent. In 
amazement at these figures, he cries out, at the end, 
"Genius is in things, not in man." 

As to social classes, 623 cases typical of high talent 
came from: 

Number relative 

Social Class Number Per Cent to population 

Nobility 159.0 25.5 159.0 

Government officials 187.0 30.0 62.0 

Liberal professions 143.5 23.0 24.0 

Bourgeoisie 72.5 11.6 7.0 

Manual Labor 61.0 9.8 0.8 


These figures demonstrate that more than three quarters 
of the talented men of France have sprung from the 
nobility, the government officials, and the liberal pro- 
fessions. The last column was arrived at by M. Odin's 
estimating the working class to constitute 80%, the 
bourgeoisie at 10%, the liberal professions at 6%, and 
the public officials at ?>%. 

This means that a person born of the nobility has 
nearly 200 times the chance to become eminent that 
one born in the working class has. He has 23 times 
as much chance as a son of the bourgeoisie has. This 
brings us back to the fundamental point, that the jnani- 
festation of genius is wholly a question of opportunity. 

There is a prevailing idea that, where genius is con- 
cerned, education is unnecessary. This is erroneous. 
When M. Odin tested this in 827 cases, where he could 
find data concerning early education, he found that 811 
had good education, and 16, education poor or none. 
Ninety-eight per cent of the talented authors of France 
received a good education in their youth; 2% received an 
inadequate education, or none at all. 

From this we deduce that the actual manufacture of 
great men, of the agents of civilization, of the instru- 
ments of achievement, is not a Utopian conception, but 
a practical undertaking. It is also comparatively simple, 

"consists in nothing but the extension to all the members 
of society of an equal opportunity for the exercise of whatever 
mental powers each may possess/' 

For absolute poverty or uninterrupted labor at long 
hours the chance of success is necessarily zero, no mat- 
ter how great may be the native talent or even genius. 
Abject poverty is an effective bar to achievement. It 


may be regarded as wholly Utopian to propose to provide 
all with a high economic and social environment; it is 
an entirely practicable proposition to provide every 
member of society with such an education as will enable 
him to select and successfully pursue a career. 

"To sum up the general results of this inquiry, it may be 
safely stated that a well-organized system of universal educa- 
tion . . . conferring 'the maximum amount of the most im- 
portant extant knowledge upon all the members of society/ 
would increase the average fecundity in dynamic agents of 
society at least 100-fold." 

At present, this fecundity is about 2 to 100,000 popula- 
tion. It can therefore be made at least 200 to the 100,- 
000, or 1 to every 500. 

The question of women and genius has been largely 
omitted from this discussion. Women's tardiness in 
talent and genius has been due, as we have shown, to the 
effect of her subjection to man. Remove this, and 
women will slowly reach an equality of talent and 
genius with men: so that the final number of achievers 
secured will be something like 4<t)0 to every 100,000, or 
1 to every 250. 

History may be defined as a record of exceptional 
phenomena. It might be called a tabloid newspaper ac- 
count of the activities of the centuries. There is no es- 
sential difference between the idea that the great men 
of history are eternally limited in number and that their 
number cannot be increased, and the fallacy of super- 
stition. Genius is present in all the social classes. The 
sociologist cares nothing about genius; what concerns 
him is achievement. 

The two principal forms of opportunity are leisure 
and education. The dynamic quality of leisure lies in 


the fact that pleasure consists exclusively in the normal 
exercise of the faculties. Leisure, therefore, does not 
involve inactivity, but always takes some form of activ- 
ity. Prolonged inactivity becomes painful. The ac- 
tivity may be sport, or work. The instinct of work- 
manship, even if it be in no other form than fear of the 
hell of ennui, is the great and unremitting spur that 
drives and goads all men to action. 

There are really no self-made men. There is always 
some sort of opportunity presented, that permits their 
emergence into achievement. As a result of denial of 
opportunity to members of the lower classes, by far the 
greater part of the real work of civilization has "been 
done by privileged men, many of whom were privileged 
in a high degree. The talent that can fight against ad- 
versity is never of the highest and best quality. 

It is social contact that equips men with language, by 
which they can communicate their thoughts. Isolated 
children, of even civilized races, probably would develop, 
if they never heard speech, only the crudest and most 
primitive sort of language. There are a thousand other 
benefits furnished by contact. Isolated civilized chil- 
dren would have to reconquer the whole environment, 
and do over afresh what it has taken all these centuries 
of man's progress to achieve. Buckle saw all this: 

"Whatever, therefore, the moral and intellectual progress 
of men may be, it resolves itself not into a progress of natural 
capacity, but into a progress, if I may so say, of opportunity. 
. . . The progress is one, not of internal power, but of ex- 
ternal advantage." 

The whole trend, drift, and logic of any fair study of 
society converges into this one focal point: that all in- 
fluences, all environments, and all opportunities con- 
verge to this one focal point, education. 


SOCIAL IMPROVEMENT. The purpose of applied soci- 
ology is improvement; nevertheless, attention has thus 
far been drawn chiefly to questions of achievement. 
Material civilization is upon the whole progressive, in 
the sense of actually bettering the condition of society; 
but Ward admits that the improvement is in no fixed 
proportion to the degree of civilization. The purpose 
of applied sociology is to show that achievement and im- 
provement should at least go hand in hand. 

The reason why achievement produces so little effect 
is that it is not appropriated by society. It is merely 
used; it is not possessed. Only a minute proportion of 
marikind knows how to do anything but simply use it 
as they find it. Science and art are far in advance of the 
people. The enormous inequalities in knowledge render 
this so. There has been no general elevation of society 
as a whole, corresponding to the brilliant and rocket-like 
flights of certain specially favored individuals. The 
world is not ripe nor ready for the blessings of science 
that a few privileged men have given it, and therefore 
it receives only a small part of the advantages. 

We sometimes hear the expressions, "science for its 
own sake" and "knowledge for its own sake." There is 
no such thing. There is always an ulterior purpose, and 
that purpose is ethical, in the sense that it relates to 
feeling. The student or investigator may for a long 
while cling persistently to the objective and intellectual 
aspect, but this is because he sees that this is the way to 
attain the ethical end. 

The reconcilement of achievement and improvement 
becomes much clearer, when we recognize that all 
science and all intellectual operations have an ethical 
purpose. But although all scientific truth may and in all 
probability will ultimately benefit mankind, it is espe- 


cially the social sciences that are adapted to this func- 
tion. It must always be so. Men work for a purpose, 
if it is nothing more than their own improvement. On 
the lowest planes of activity, under the universal law of 
striving, this is largely egoistic; but on the higher plane 
of genius, whether inventive, creative, or philosophic, 
this egoistic purpose is expanded and made to include 
others than self, and ultimately all mankind, so that 
achievement is thoroughly altruistic and humanitarian. 
It is not the fault of those who achieve, if this achieve- 
ment does not constitute improvement. They always 
intend that it shall. 

The failure to assimilate achievement is due to the 
enormous artificial inequalities in society. It is due to 
the exploitation of the unintelligent class by the intelli- 
gent class. So long as there remains a great mass who are 
not in possession of the truth that has been given to the 
world, and only a small class who do possess this social 
heritage, man's egoism and acquisitiveness will prevent 
any just distribution of the fruits of achievement. For 
knowledge is power: and sympathy, altruism, benevo- 
lence, and philanthropy are utterly unreliable principles, 
and cannot in the least be depended upon to insure any 
sort of equity or justice in society. Their whole func- 
tion is mere patchwork: mere scattering perfume in front 
of a noisesome and poisonous sewer, instead of digging 
down and removing the cause of the evil odor. 

All the great social inequalities are purely artificial. 
They are due to privilege. They are made by society. 
All the geniuses, all the heroes, all the great men of the 
world have been products of their environment not the 
physical nor yet the racial environment, but the prod- 
ucts of one or another of the artificial environments, the 
local, the economic, the social, or the educational en- 


vironment. How many geniuses, heroes, and great men 
there may have been who never came under the influ- 
ence of any of these artificial environments, and conse- 
quently never were heard from, no one either knows or 
ever will know. 

The conditions to increased achievement imply and 
involve its social assimilation. In other words, there 
will be created not only geniuses, but, along with them, 
a market for the products of genius. This is analagous 
to "overproduction" on the economic field. Today, 
overproduction never means production in excess of the 
need for the goods; but it means production in excess of 
the market for the goods. Overproduction thus always 
goes along with want, hunger, and misery. This derives 
from the absence of a proper system of distribution, 
and is a consequence of the unorganized condition of 
society. It is the same with the production of knowl- 
edge, and with all forms of achievement. It is impos- 
sible to have too much knowledge. Society cannot have 
any too many active and efficient workers in any of the 
great lines of human achievement. Too many truths of 
nature cannot be discovered. 

But for all this, as for the necessaries of life, there 
must be a market. It is no use to cast pearls before 
swine. A public that cannot appreciate and assimilate 
human achievement renders it impossible. There must 
be a demand, before there can be a supply. Therefore it 
would be useless to multiply geniuses, unless at the same 
time the number of those who can appreciate the work 
of genius is correspondingly multiplied. And all this 
shows the essential superiority of the logic of oppor- 
tunity, as opposed to current conceptions of genius. The 
equalization of opportunity creates a market for all the 
products of genius. 


The assimilation of achievement means its utilization; 
and its utilization means the true improvement of man's 
estate. The entire movement is positive; there are no 
negative elements. The equalization of opportunity 
would secure the gratification of physical wants, as com- 
pletely as the spiritual ones. It could not fail to bring 
about the complete social distribution of the economic 
products of achievement, and, with the immensely in- 
creased production of such products that the new science, 
art, and industry would insure, all the physical wants 
of mankind would be supplied, along with the spiritual. 
The reconciliation of achievement with improvement 
would be complete. 

Nothing that could be added to this, in the way of 
indicating how the ends can be attained, says Ward, 
would have much value. Ward does not claim to be 
wiser than others in devising ways and means. The 
average intelligence of mankind is amply sufficient to 
work out, adopt, and carry into effect practical meas- 
ures for the accomplishment of any clearly perceived 
and strongly desired end. 

The method of applied sociology is the administration 
of the social estate. " The social heritage, human achieve- 
ment, consisting of the knowledge brought into the 
world by the labors of the elite of mankind, has been be- 
queathed to all the members of society equally, share and 
share alike. But inattention, neglect, and general bad 
management have allowed it to slip into the hands of a 
few privileged persons only. 

There is this fundamental difference between spiritual 
and material wealth. The possession by one of spiritual 
wealth does not diminish the share of another. All the 
heirs inherit it all, and may possess it all. Mere skill in 
the varied industries would not need to be distributed 


to all, if it could be. What, then, is the social heritage? 
What knowledge is it the duty of society to extend to 
all of its members, without exception? 

The primary principle is that every human being of 
mature age and sound mind should be put in possession 
of all that is known. It would perhaps be clearer, to 
some minds, to say that every such being should be in 
possession of all truth. When we say knowledge, the 
idea of memorizing millions of facts is likely to rise in 
the mind. This is not what the proposition means; it 
means the knowledge of laws and principles. It is gen- 
eralized knowledge, under which all facts and details 
necessarily fall. Only to a mind in possession of such 
general truths do the details possess any meaning or any 
value. To minds devoid of general knowledge, all spe- 
cial knowledge presents a chaos. 

Every conceivable fact, force, property, substance or 
thing in the entire universe finds its place and explana- 
tion under one or the other of the six major sciences. 
These sciences, as now commonly recognized, arranged 
in their ascending order from the standpoint of depen- 
dence and subordination, are: 

( 1 ) Astronomy. 

(2) Physics. 

(3) Chemistry. 

(4) Biology. 

( 5 ) Psychology. 

(6) Sociology. 

Of these, astronomy is the most exact, and, in the de- 
scending scale, sociology is the least exact. The phe- 
nomena also diminish in generality and increase in com- 
plexity as we descend in the series, those of astronomy 
being the most general and least complex, and those of 
sociology the least general and most complex. 


Mathematics and logic are not sciences, in the present 
use of the term. Ward denies that they furnish any in- 
formation whatever about nature and the universe. They 
are simply tools of the mind, aids to the study of science. 
If treated as sciences, they should be called hypothetical 
or theoretical sciences. 

In the administration of the social state, the first and 
principal task is to hunt up all the heirs, and give to 
each his share. Every member of society is equally the 
heir to this social heritage; and, as we have seen, all may 
possess all of it, without depriving any of any part of it. 

"This task is nothing less than the diffusion of all knowledge 
among all 

This knowledge, propeily classified, falls into natural 
groups, and consists of a series of great truths. These 
truths contain within them a multitude of minor truths; 
but these minor truths need not be all actually possessed 
by every mind. All will select some of them; but dif- 
ferent persons will require an acquaintance with differ- 
ent parts of this detailed knowledge, according to their 
tastes and pursuits. This general knowledge is embraced 
in the six great sciences listed above; and, if they are 
acquired in the order of nature, they will be both easily 
and thoroughly acquired. Such is an outline of the 
method of applied sociology. The rest is matter of detail. 
Knowledge will always be increasing; nothing can 
prevent this. Society does not need to concern itself 
with this. Its duty is to see that knowledge is assimi- 
lated. When only a few possess this knowledge, it has 
little value. It may even be injurious. The inequalities 
bred of it lead to all forms of exploitation and social 
misery. The differences of opinion that arise from this 
source always divide society into factions, and cause all 


manner of strife. Most of the evils of this nature are 
due to the ignorance by most of mankind, of truths that 
are known only to a few. A large part of the war and 
bloodshed in the world is over matters that are already 
settled and may have been long settled, but only in the 
minds of a select few, who have no means of placing the 
rest in possession of the truth which they possess. This 
is the duty of society, and the individuals possessing this 
knowledge are not to blame for the resulting inequalities. 
Usually they do all they can to impart this knowledge 
to others, for, as we have shown, the mind is essentially 
altruistic, and next to pleasure derived from the acquisi- 
tion of knowledge and the discovery of truth, its greatest 
satisfaction is in imparting this knowledge and this truth 
to others. 

Most educators deny that the conferring of knowledge 
should form any part of education, and consider that 
this belongs to experience in connection with affairs 
after school days are over. Their ideal is the illusory 
development of the mind. Mathematics, which is purely 
abstract, is demoralizing Ward admits that he almost 
wrote dementalizing to the thinking powers. Nor does 
history promote the judgment. For by history educators 
mean traditional history, which is only a record of ex- 
ceptional phenomena. The only thing which can develop 
or strengthen the faculties or the mind is knowledge, 
and all real knowledge is science. It is the only working 
power in society, and the working power of society in- 
creases in proportion to the number possessing it. The 
paramount duty of society is to put that knowledge into 
the minds of all its members. 

No one supposes, said Ward, that society will under- 
take to educate adults. As to whether society should 
go down into the slums and educate its denizens, the 


answer may be made that there is no need of having any 
slums. Take the slum young and surround them with 
the proper conditions, and you end their menace- There 
is no other class in society whose education is half so im- 
portant as this lowest and most dangerous class. What- 
ever the cost, it is a work that must be done, and which, 
when done, will a thousand times repay the cost. 

This need for general education is not even recognized 
as a social problem by most. Meanwhile, a long train of 
problems, which are completely insoluble in the present 
state of society, are being violently attacked by a great 
army of would-be reformers. 

"In most cases, even if we could imagine them solved for 
the time being, they would not stay solved; for the same 
conditions which now produce the evils complained of would 
immediately revive them, and the work would require to be 
done over again, and so on indefinitely." 

There can be no permanent success in the solution of 
social questions, without striking at the root of the evils, 
and removing their underlying causes. 

Ethical sociology, which certain sociologists place at 
the crown of their systems, falls naturally under two 
sharply defined heads: private ethics, and positive ethics. 
This privation is the source of great pain, suffering, and 
misery, and these appeal to the sympathy of all that do 
not have to undergo them. 

"The evils of society are due to the competitive system in 
a state of artificial inequality of intelligence. As this state 
has always existed, it is supposed that it must always exist." 

Yet the three so-called highest classes, the nobility, the 
class of high governmental officers, and the professional 


classes, have been always more or less exempt from eco- 
nomic competition. At least, they have always professed 
a disdain for everything that relates to money-getting. 
Yet there has been no lack of rivalry among these. Even 
with the competitive system removed, a healthy rivalry 
would still exist. 

Statistics of mortality show how the economic compe- 
tition keeps down surplus population, by killing off the 
greater part of the surplus. They show that while the 
average longevity of the rich is from 55 to 56 years, 
that of the poor is only 28 years. The mortality of 
infants in noble families in Germans is less than 6%> 
while among the poor it is between 30 and 40%. Of 
the working classes, 50% of the children die during the 
first five years of their lives, while of the upper classes 
only 25% die during that period. The competitive 
system in society thus produces a human surplus, and 
kills it off. The surplus population is killed by poverty. 
Among the poor, the fatal diseases are mainly due to 
lack of sufficient nourishment, and to undue exposure 
in connection with excessive toil. The causes that pro- 
duce most of these deaths would have no effect upon a 
well-nourished body. All germ diseases attack weak 
constitutions while robust constitutions resist them. 
The poor are always "run down/' and when a disease 
attacks them they have no reserve power to throw it off. 
Hence they usually die. 

Reproduction, also, is in inverse ratio to intelligence. 
Throughout the organic world, reproduction decreases 
as evolution advances; this, as Spencer showed, is true of 
human population. Among the very poor, child-bear- 
ing takes place about as fast as the laws of nature will 
permit. The intelligent well-to-do classes marry later, 
and have children at much wider intervals. Birth con- 


trol is very prevalent among intelligent persons. The 
decreased birth rate in civilized countries is the surest 
possible mark of increasing intelligence. 

To sociologists, positive ethics is the main problem. 
It considers the modes by which the positive improve- 
ment of the lot of man is likely to be effected. Some 
of these must necessarily be economic. Abundant nour- 
ishment for the body is therefore the first condition to 
liberty. There are other material wants, such as cloth- 
ing, shelter, and heat in cold climates, which are fur- 
nished by money or its equivalent. There are thousands 
of other real wants, the deprivation of which restrains 
the freedom to exercise the faculties. In short, con- 
sidering society as it is, and as it is likely to remain for 
a long time to come, within certain limits that may be 
approximately determined, the more any one possesses 
of this world's goods, the greater may be the measure of 
his happiness. 

From the present state of the world's wealth, the 
prime desideratum of society must include an increase of 
production. This can definitely be done. There is 
scarcely any limit to the possible increase of production. 
There must go with this a more equitable distribution. 
In the language of "political economy," positive ethics 
demands an enormous rise in the standard of living. 
Life itself is capable of being made a fine art. This is 
tfye mission of positive ethics. 

From an unbiased standpoint, the races of men ap- 
pear to be in an infantile state. The greatest achieve- 
ments of men are really trifling, when looked at from 
the standpoint of possibilities. Man should become abso- 
lute master of his physical environment. Just as he has 
learned that in union is strength, and that the way 
of safety, success, and achievement lies through associa- 


tion, so he will ultimately learn that this is as true of 
races as of individuals, and that the union, association, 
and complete fusion of all races into one great homo- 
geneous race the race of men is the final step in social 

The method will be the principle of attraction, as op- 
posed to compulsion. Human character itself can be 
transformed, by the transformance of human institu- 
tions. Attractive legislation will replace compulsive 
legislation. Such legislation may be ratified by legisla- 
tive bodies; but it will originate in what may be called 
the- sociological laboratory. 

Ward's concluding words are highly significant: 

'The goal toward which all man's efforts would tend would 
be a state of society in which no one should be obliged to do 
anything that is in any way distasteful to him, and in which 
every act should be so agreeable that he will do it from per- 
sonal preference. . . . All the varied streams of benefit (in- 
creased production, and equitable distribution) would unite 
in securing the twofold end of increasing thexsum total of so- 
cial efficiency and social improvement." </ 


Lester F. Ward started as a botanist and paleobotanist; and 
some have attributed to the habit thus engrained, of furnishing 
new names for new plants and new fossil plants discovered by 
him, his habit of renaming social forces, or of naming new 
social forces he discovered and isolated. Unfortunately for 
the popularity of his writings, the names he chose were diffi- 
cult to understand and remember, and have barred many readers 
from his works. These names have been largely omitted from 
the preceding study. In order to enable the student to u$e 
Ward's vocabulary in discussing sociology, if he desires to, a 
glossary of the most important of the terms originated or 
favored by Ward is given below: 

ANDROCLEXIS, male selection of mate. 

ANDROCRACY, or andrarchy, male rule. 

ANDROCENTRIC, male-centered. 

ANTHROPOCENTRIC, human-centered. 

ANTHROPOTELEOLOGY, the doctrine of man's purposiveness. 

ARISTOCENTRIC, centered around "the best." 

BIONOMY, the science of the laws of living functions. 

BIOTAXY, classification of living forms. 

CONATION, the struggle to satisfy desire. 

CONSANGUINEAL LOVE, love of kindred. 

CREATIVE SYNTHESIS, the explanation by which a thing is 
more than the sum of its factors, or the mechanical result- 
ant of its components. 

FILIATION, derivative relationship, as of parent to offspring. 

FISSION, reproduction by division. 

GEMMATION, reproduction by budding. 

GENESIS, growth. 



GYNAECOCENTRIC, female-centered. 

GYNAECOCRACI, gynaecarchy, female rule. 

GYNECLEXIS, female selection of mate. 

GYN ANDROCRACY, male- and- female rule, 

KARIOKINESIS, the series of changes which take place in a cell 

in the process of division. 

MELIORISM, the philosophy of improvement, of betterment. 
MESOLOGY, the science of interpreting human events by char- 

MOLAR, pertaining to a mass. 
MONISTIC, based upon original unity. 
MONOPODIAL DEVELOPMENT, development consisting of one 

main stem, with many branchings. 
MONOGENESIS, single creation of the races of men. 
J^loNosPOROGONiA, reproduction by germ cell or spore 


NOETICS, noology, the science of objective psychic phenomena. 
OLIGOCENTRIC, centered around a few. 
ONTOGENY, study of the preservative forces, the study of the 

forces that develop and sustain the body, that relate to 

the whole separate being of the organism. 
PARSIMONY, the law of the greatest gain for the least effort. 
PARTHENOGENESIS, virgin birth reproduction. 
PHYLOGENY, the study of the reproductive forces, the forces 

of growth of the organism into another organism, as of 

parent into offspring. 
POESIS, making of a thing. 

POLYGENESIS, multiple creation of the races of men. 
POLYSPOROGONIA, reproduction by germinal budding. 
PSYCHOGENESIS, the growth of mind. 
PSYCHOMETRY, the measurement of psychic phenomena. 
SOCIOCRACY, rule by society. 

SOCIOGENY, the study of the non-essential social forces. 
SYMPODIAL DEVELOPMENT, development in which successive 

branches successively become the main stem, leaving the 

original main stems as vanishing vestiges. 


SYNERGY, the systematic and organic working together of 

the opposing forces of nature. 
TAXIS, classification. 
TELEOLOGY, the doctrine of purpose. 
TELESIS, purposive progress, conscious progress. 
TELIC, purposive. 

THEOTELEOLOGY, the doctrine of divine purpose. 
TOCOGENESIS, affiliated growth. 
ZOOLATRY, worship of animals. 
ZOOTAXY, the classification of animal forms.